Healing the Mind
by Peter Simons
Summary: A (now complete) story about the Trip-T'Pol relationship that might have developed in Season 3, had the producers not chosen to use Trellium-D addiction instead.
1. Default Chapter

**Healing the Mind**

**Summary:** T'Pol wants to be friends with Trip. Naturally, he is not interested. But she simply doesn't leave him alone; she just is so persistent, so annoying, and so taxing, that he has no chance but to like her back.

**Author's Note:** The story is set in the third season, based on the events of »_Rajiin_«. Knowledge of the first season episode »_Breaking the Ice_« would also be useful, but not essential to understand it.

**Beta Reader Acknowledgment:** Once more I owe gratitude to Clicks for proof-reading this text and for making many helpful suggestions how to improve it. _Thank you!_

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»Hi. Who are you?«

Trip was startled out of his thoughts: »Excuse me?«

»I have never seen your species before. I hope you don't mind my asking … but I am curious. Who are you?«

»I'll tell you, if you tell me who you are first.«

»My name is Zaphie.«

The alien female extended her hand to Trip, exactly like a human woman would have done.

»Hi Zaphie.« Trip accepted the offered hand and shook it. »I am Charles Tucker.«

Trip studied the alien female for a moment. She had an unusual complexion, he noticed, it seemed as if her skin had several colors at once. He looked at her face and slowly turned his head left and right, keeping his gaze on the same spot on her face, and as he did, her skin color seemed to change!

She laughed warmly at his amazement.

»It appears, you have never seen my species either, Charles Tucker. I can tell by the strange look. I get this a lot.«

»I am sorry, but your skin is very interesting. It looks, as if it were a prism.«

»Yes, it does.« She paused to let her gaze wander over his face and body. »But you are very interesting too, Charles Tucker.«

Something in her voice told Trip, that she was not referring his skin color. But whatever she referred to, he had no time to find out.

»It's been nice meeting you, Zaphie, but I am on duty right now and I have some things to take ca—«

»You haven't told me what species you are.«

»Oh … right. I am a human. We live on a planet called Earth.«

»Is that far from here, Charles Tucker?«

»I should really get going. It's been nice talking to you.«

»Perhaps you should make time and talk a bit more?«

»Look, I don't mean to be rude, really not. I have some important thin—«

»Like, finding information about the Xindi?«

»How the hell did you know that?«

»I am an unusually well-informed person, Charles Tucker.«

»And your vast knowledge does, by any chance, include information about the whereabouts of the Xindi?«

»Coincidently.«

»Then perhaps I should make time and talk a bit more.«

»Let's get off the market, though. I know a place where we can talk without being disturbed.«

»I bet you do. Would you mind if I invite my Captain and Armory Officer to the meeting?«

»Of course not.«

He took his communicator out of his arm pocket and switched it on.

»Tucker to Captain Archer.«

»_Go on, Trip._«

»It appears I have run into someone who might be able to help us. Her name is Zaphie.«

All the while he spoke to the Captain, the alien before him smiled at him openly. She acted, as if they had known since childhood and had run into each other on a remote planet by chance.

»_Send us the coordinates of the meeting point once you're there, Trip. We'll be finished here in a moment._«

»Aye, Captain.«

He switched the communicator to stand-by and put it back into his pocket.

»You heard my Captain, Zaphie. Let's go to the place you mentioned.«

»Follow me, Trip.«

She gave him one more smile before she turned around and lead the way.

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Zaphie was very pleased with the prey she had discovered. He had an unusual mind, very enticing. Though his species did not appear to have any telepathic abilities, his mind had obviously been receiving telepathic contact frequently. It could not learn how to initiate telepathic contact, but it had learned how to reciprocate it. Their intimacy should be very intense, he would be much more receptive to her than unskilled prey usually was. She licked her lips in anticipation.

The only pity was that, because of it, manipulating him had been a bit too easy to be really fun.

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»_Alright, Trip. We'll be there in approximately 15 minutes. Archer out._«

»So … Trip. While we wait for your friends, can I ask you for a favor?«

»Why don't you ask me, and then I'll tell you whether I'll do it?«

She laughed once more, then smiled and sat down before him, folding her legs under her.

»Have you always been this distrustful?«

»To be perfectly honest, no, not always. But after a while in space, you learn.«

»I know what you mean, Trip. I hope, I won't give you any reason to become more distrustful than you already are.«

»So do I, Zaphie.«

Trip eyed her cautiously. You didn't have to be Zefram Cochrane to figure out she had an agenda of her own. And now that she slowly moved her hand upwards to touch his face, it became increasingly clear what this agenda might be.

»Please trust me for only a minute, Trip. I am really just curious, I mean no harm.«

Her fingertips stroked carefully over his temples. And as they did, something weird happened. It felt, as if his body had been detached from his mind. It felt, as if his mind stood outside of him and watched the proceedings from a distance.

»You have a very skilled mind, Trip. How come you know how to reciprocate telepathic contact?«

He had no idea what she was talking about. And he wanted to say just that, but he didn't know how to move anymore. He had simply forgotten how to control his body, his lips wouldn't budge!

»Shhh. Don't resist, Trip. It will only hurt.«

By now, her hands were resting on both of his temples. Her fingers felt so hot on his skin, he thought she was welding them onto on his head! He tried to move, to shake them off, but it was useless. He couldn't even blink. His temples began to throb powerfully, and a fine but piercing pain radiated throughout his body. The pain wandered from his temples down his spine and through his bones, until it was everywhere, until every fiber of his body itched with pain.

»Don't resist, Trip.«

The pain began to increase, it grew even worse. He had no words to describe it. He had been injured before, he had been beaten up before, but at no time had he felt anything like this. This pain was encompassing. Any other sensation was just drowned out.

»How come you know how to reciprocate telepathic contact?«

It was unbearable. He wanted to yell, to cry, to beg; but he could do nothing!

»Where have you learned to reciprocate telepathic contact?«

He would have told her. He would have told her EVERYTHING. But he simply couldn't, he had no idea what she wanted!

»Fine, Trip. Then we'll do it the hard way.«

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She had hoped, the intimacy of their minds would be consensual. It didn't really matter, though. She just wanted his emotions. Whether he would give them freely or not didn't make a difference.

She began to send him impressions. She knew, they would feel completely real to him. His mind could not distinguish what his body told him from what she sent him. The first impression was that of his thumbnail being ripped off his finger with pliers.

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Trip had lost any sense of time. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea what was happening to him. All he knew was, that he wanted to die. He was in excruciating pain, and he was certain his body had been mutilated beyond recognition by now. He longed for death.

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These humans were stronger than they appeared. Most of her victims had surrendered long before, but this one's will was determined not to give in. She liked that in a man. Perhaps deception was a more appropriate tool than pain?

--------

»T'Pol?«

»Commander, I will help you. But you must trust me.«

»I am in so much pain, T'Pol!«

»I know. Trust me. Take my hand.«

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Yes! Deception was indeed far more effective. Now she had him.

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He desperately reached out for T'Pol — and when he touched her hand, the pain vanished. But it was immediately replaced by mortal fear. He felt threatened, weak, defenseless. He felt vulnerable like he had never felt in his life. T'Pol was gone. Everything was gone. He was alone in the dark void. And he was cold and completely naked.

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Zaphie devoured his fear and desperation hungrily. Such powerful emotions! It was wonderful. She bathed in the energy of his mind. She reveled in his feelings for minutes, until she was sated. But she was curious, there still was time for a little extra.

She ripped his consciousness open and entered his mind with hers.

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»Captain?«

»It turns out, our mission to save Earth has become a bit more difficult than before. Can you guess why?«

»John, please help me! I have no idea wh—«

»Your friends the Vissians have declared war.«

»What?«

»You remember the Cogenitor, don't you? The first attack wave has killed over 700,000 people. Star Fleet Command has been eradicated from the earth. Do you know who is responsible for that?«

»But I …«

»Do you know, how many people have lost a sister because of your doing?«

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She had erred. Now that his mind buzzed with all kinds of emotions, she realized she had not been sated at all.

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»Malcolm? Please hel—«

»Do you know when I started to hate you, Trip?«

»What?«

»It was, when I had to shoot down Sim.«

»WHAT?«

»He tried to flee, he didn't want to die for you. Nor did I want him to. Everybody wanted Sim to live, only Phlox insisted on performing this sick procedure of his! I had to shoot Sim and drag him to the bio bed, so that you could live, you bastard!«

»I didn't know that Malcolm!«

»What difference does it make? Because of you, I had to kill my best friend, _Trip_!«

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Oh, she hadn't felt so wonderful for a long time. She knew everything he knew, he could not keep any secret from her. And she used his secrets against him. She sucked every emotion out of him that she could find.

But there had to be more?

--------

»T'Pol, you have to help me! Somet—«

»It would be illogical to help you, Commander.«

»What?«

»By helping you, I would only put myself into danger. The risk is not worth it.«

»T'Pol, PLEASE!«

»You simply don't understand, do you? I don't CARE! Live long and prosper, Commander.«

As she turned around and walked away, Trip began to cry out-of-control.

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Zaphie was enthralled by his powerful emotions. But she knew she had to leave, his friends would arrive any moment now. It was a pity though, she hadn't enjoyed prey like this in a long time.

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»I cannot detect any physical injuries, Captain. But Commander Tucker is not well, that much is clear. His nervous system has been over-strained severely.«

»How could this have happened?«

»Any number of reasons, Captain. The likeliest explanation would be some kind of torture — extreme pain and discomfort. Since there is no physical evidence of such methods however, I cannot say for certain.«

»Could this have been caused by invasive mental abilities? Like Rajiin was capable of?«

»Maybe. Telepathy would be one possible explanation. A violation of his mind, so to speak. It would explain why his body has not been harmed. But like I said, I cannot be certain.«

»Has his brain been damaged?«

»It doesn't appear so. There is no _physical_ damage, but it is hard to tell how the experience that caused this state has affected his mind.«

»Any idea when he might wake up?«

»I could probably wake him up with a hypospray, but I wouldn't recommend it. Whatever has happened, he has been through extreme stress. Rest is definitely a good idea right now.«

»Keep me posted, Doctor.«

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Phlox had developed some gruesome memories during his career as a surgeon. He had worked directly behind the front-line in an extremely violent war, and in those times, he had witnessed things no living being is supposed to see. Now he had made one more memory he would not be able to forget: The look in Commander Tucker's eyes when he woke up. His expression was so pained and frightened, it almost tore Phlox's heart apart.

»Commander Tucker? You are safe. You are on ENTERPRISE, in Sickbay.«

The Commander jerked his face into Phlox's direction and his eyes were wide in fear. Phlox could literally see the panic grab him as his body tensed up, and then he jumped off the bed in an explosive movement, only to break down on the floor, unable to support his own weight.

»Mister Tucker.« Phlox said softly to him as he approached slowly. »You are safe. Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed found you on the planet. You are back on ENTERPRISE.«

The Commander just snapped his face in random directions, as if he was expecting to be ambushed at any second. Then his eyes rolled back and he passed out again.

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»Wh… What… Where am I?«

»You are on ENTERPRISE, Commander. You are safe. Don't be alarmed, I have given you a sedative, that's why you might feel a little strange.«

»Phlox?«

»Yes, Commander. I am glad you are back.«

»Just get it over with. What have I done?«

»I was hoping you could tell me, Commander. The Captain found you at the agreed coordinates, but you were unconscious. We couldn't determine what has happened do you. Do you remember anything?«

The Commanders face distorted into a mask of anguish again, and Phlox immediately regretted having asked that question so soon.

»I am sorry, Commander. You need to rest. Please be calm, you are safe now.«

»This is real?«

»Of course it is, Commander. You are on ENTERPRISE.«

»Has Earth been attacked?«

»You can't remember?«

»I am not sure what I remember …«

»We are in the Expanse. Do you remember why?«

»Have the Vissians attacked Earth?«

»Not to my knowledge, Commander.«

»Then I have just had the most real and the most horrific nightmare of my life.«

»Do you remember what happened after you spoke to the Captain? He said, you were with an alien?«

»Yes. Zaphie … her name was Zaphie. Her skin shone in so many different colors.«

»I'm not sure I follow?«

Once more Trip's face displayed an expression of mortal fear, and his breathing became erratic. Phlox was certain the Commander would lose consciousness again, so he injected him with another dose of the sedative. All he could do right now was to give him was rest.

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»Captain, _please_ tell the Doctor I am fit for duty!«

»It's his decision, Trip.«

»Phlox, listen. Nothing good will come out of me lying in Sickbay the entire time. You've said it yourself, my body is okay. So please let me do something, it is boring as hell down here.«

»You may have no physical injuries, Commander, but I don't think it is wise for you to go back on duty just yet.«

»I need something to do, Phlox. I have had nightmares before, I'll deal with it. It will be _easier_ once I am back in Engineering. — Captain, the ship needs me.«

»You are right, Trip. We do need you.«

»Then let me get back to work.«

»What do you say, Phlox?«

»A single six hour shift per day, Commander. Not a minute more.«

»But I can go on working in my quarters?«

»Commander, if you don't value your physical and mental health, then you may of course do just that. But your brain needs to recover. If you don't rest, then you will quite simply go insane.«

»I'll be careful, Doc.«

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Had Trip been in the mood for laughter, he would have laughed when Phlox had warned him he would go insane. For all he knew, he _was_ insane already. Getting back to work had been the right decision. He was alright whenever he was distracted. But once his thoughts had time to wander, nothing was right anymore.

The nightmares about Lizzy's death had been unsettling, but the nightmares he had now were so terrible, he simply refused to go to sleep. He tried to stay awake for as long as he could. For hours he sat in his quarters and watched the stars pass by. He kept the room dark. He didn't want any light. All he wanted to do was to forget.

Out of nowhere the pain returned. The feeling of helplessness returned. And he was scared to death. There was such an immense sense of danger around him, he didn't even dare to exhale. Suddenly, something shifted in the shadows. Strange colors twinkled in the corners of the room, they lurked in the dark, they just waited to attack him. And there was _nothing_ he could do. He could just sit there with his legs pulled up to his chest, and wait for the inevitable to happen. And when they attacked him, he would cry out because of the excruciating pain — but no sound could be heard. And then he woke up in his chair, drenched in sweat, and shook like a leaf.

He had withdrawn from the social life on board, but he kept up a cheerful facade. Whenever someone told him he wouldn't look good, he tried to look solemn and replied, that he was fine, maybe a little stressed out … _work_, you know? He had some experience doing this. He had lived this way ever since Lizzy had died. So his life hadn't really changed much. It had just reached a new quantity of isolation, not a new quality.

He just couldn't bear to have people around him. He couldn't bear the way they looked at him with this pitied expression. He just didn't want to go through that, he had had enough. He needed peace to deal with these nightmares. And he had no idea how to do it. He felt vulnerable in a way he hadn't thought possible: his _mind_ felt vulnerable.

But so what? Everyone on the ship had problems. He was not special in any way. He just needed time.

Suddenly a voice startled him out of his thoughts.

»Commander? Are you alright?«

»Do you want to give me a heart attack, Subcommander? Have you ever heard of a door bell?«

»I rang it five times.«

Did she?

»So when I don't answer, you just enter and invade into my privacy?«

»I didn't mean to pry, Commander. Please excuse me. I was simply concerned you were in distress.«

»I am fine.«

»Why are you sitting in the dark?«

»What can I do for you, Subcommander?«

»The crew is worried because they hardly see you anymore, Commander. It's Tuesday, I'm sure you remember Movie Night?«

»I am not in the mood.«

»Have you eaten already?«

»Yes.«

»What did you have?«

»Why are you interrogating me, T'Pol?«

»I am concerned for you as well.«

»I am fine! I just need some time for myself, okay?«

»It would be beneficial, if you —«

»T'Pol, you don't seem to understand, do you? I don't CARE!«

Ever since he had woken up after the ordeal on the planet, he had seen T'Pol with different eyes. She was menacing. There was something about her that frightened him. He had no idea what it was, but now was not a good time to find out. He only knew she she was dangerous! And the feeling increased the closer she got. He eyed her suspiciously while she slowly approached him.

»On the contrary, Commander. It's very likely that I am the only one who understands. My mind has been violated twice.«

For the first time, he really looked at her. She stood next to his chair by now, less than half a meter away. Her face seemed softer than usual. She really _was_ concerned.

»I am sorry, T'Pol. I am not myself at the moment, I didn't mean to be rude.«

She accepted his apology with a nod, then slowly crouched down next to his chair, and gently laid her hand over his in a gesture of sympathy. But it was not! The moment her fingers touched him, the pain returned with force — she meant to hurt him! He felt her ice-cold menace creeping up his spine, and he was too terrified to react at first. Then he pulled his hand away as if he had touched fire, he jumped out of his chair, knocking it over in the process, and withdrew to the corner farthest away from her.

»Get out, T'Pol! Just leave me alone.«

»Commander, I can explain your reac—«

»GET OUT!«

It was almost half-an-hour after she had left, before he dared to leave the corner he had backed himself into.

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T'Pol was very concerned. A week had passed, but Commander Tucker didn't seem to get any better. Whatever had happened to him, it had changed the man she knew into a shadow of his former self. It was quite obvious, he didn't know how to deal with such a harrowing experience. He had been completely unprepared for a violation of this kind. She understood him well.

She had had the benefit of superior mental discipline, her whole life she had been doing nothing but suppressing her unwelcome emotions. And it had been difficult. It still was. She knew she had not really dealt with her horrible experiences either, she had just pushed them out of her consciousness. It was the only way _she_ knew how to deal with them.

But this was not right for Commander Tucker. He tried to ignore his pain, and it wouldn't work. Humans were not meant to exist that way. It had taken the Vulcan species centuries to develop the proper techniques to the degree that they now used. No matter how much he wanted to do the same, it was bound to fail. And it concerned her.

She was astonished that nobody else seemed to realize how Commander Tucker was on the verge of losing his sanity. Two and a half years ago, when she came aboard the ENTERPRISE, she had had incredible problems handling the emotions her colleagues spread around them, she had almost constantly been assaulted by the friendship and warmth they felt for each other. Especially Commander Tucker. It was ironic, but now she missed that time. Now, the humans controlled their emotions almost constantly, they were guarded. Tense. They didn't allow themselves to feel warmth anymore. And the emotions they _did_ feel were not warm at all.

»Captain, I am concerned about Commander Tucker.«

»Why are you concerned?«

There were moments when she wished she could allow herself to shout at her commanding officer. Was he blind?

»He displays many symptoms of severe emotional distress, Captain. And I am not certain, whether he is able to handle it.«

»Everybody on this ship is under emotional distress, T'Pol.«

»But not everybody on this ship has been subjected to the kind of abuse Commander Tucker has been subjected to recently.«

»I have spent some time with him, and he seemed to handle it surprisingly well, actually.«

»He doesn't _handle_ it at all, Captain.«

»We have a mission to accomplish, T'Pol. We can't spend time fishing in the dark about whether Trip might or might not handle his emotional distress right. Frankly, I am surprised about your concern. I would have thought, you of all people would appreciate how much control he has over himself.«

It was hopeless. The well-being of an individual had simply stopped being important on this ship. Captain Archer had known Commander Tucker much longer and far better than she. If he wanted to, he _would_ be able to see his friend's pain. But he had stopped looking.

»Lieutenant Reed, do you have a minute?«

»Certainly, Subcommander. What can I do for you?«

»This is a private matter, Lieutenant. I can count on your discretion?«

»Of course.«

»I understand that you and Commander Tucker are friends?«

»I tend to think so. Why do you ask?«

»I am concerned about the Commanders well-being, Lieutenant. He appears to be under a lot of stress.«

»We all are.«

»Of course, Lieutenant. I was just wondering, whether it wouldn't be beneficial for Commander Tucker to have some companionship. He seems to withdraw from the social activities on the ship. And since you are his friend …«

»I know what you mean, Subcommander. But I am not certain what I — or anyone, for that matter — can really do. Nobody is in the mood for celebrations right now. The social life has quietened down, everybody is focused 100 percent on the mission. That's not unusual for humans.«

»But still, it seems —«

»Have you talked to Commander Tucker about this? I understand, you and he are friends as well?«

»I tend to think so.«

»Then you are really talking to the wrong person, Subcommander.«

»You are right, Lieutenant. Thank you for your advice.«

_Of course_ she was talking to the wrong person. She knew that! But Commander Tucker had been avoiding her as much as he could. He simply refused to talk to her unless it was ship's business, and even then he was very terse. He rarely even looked at her. When she asked him for some data, he wouldn't bring it to her in person, like he used to, now he would upload it to her station. During the briefings for the senior staff, he always stood as far away from her as he could. When she was in the same room with him, he would keep his back to the wall all the time!

It distressed her. She was loathe to admit it, but she had grown accustomed to his attention. She had never realized, how much her own well-being seemed to depend on Commander Tucker's presence, until it was suddenly gone. But what distressed her the most was, that she knew exactly why he avoided her. She knew exactly, why he no longer appreciated her company. And it was her fault. She had violated his trust, she had violated him the same way this alien woman did. And if there was any chance of ever making things right again, she would have to tell him. She would have to tell him soon. But how?

»Doctor, I need your advice.«

»What can I do for you, Subcommander?«

»You seem to understand humans better than I do, and … Well, I do have a matter to discuss with Commander Tucker. Unfortunately, it is something that will most likely unsettle him. Given his current condition, I would prefer to avoid unnecessary discomfort and wondered, whether you could advice me on how to best approach him.«

»Am I correct in guessing, that you will not share the details of the matter he will find unsettling, Subcommander?«

»Right, Doctor. I will not.«

»Then there is not much I can tell you, T'Pol.«

»But you know a great deal about humans, Doctor. Surely you must have _some_ idea, how to convey this kind of information without hurting his feelings unnecessarily.«

»T'Pol, I have _no idea_ what you are talking about. How would I be able to advice you?«

»Perhaps I should ask the question differently. When you have to tell a human patient unpleasant news about his health, how do you put it?«

»Directly.«

»You think that's wise?«

»I wouldn't know any other way, T'Pol.«

»Thank you, Doctor.«

All this hadn't helped her at all. But no matter how long she analyzed the problem, the fact would remain: she had to tell him. And the longer she waited, the more painful it would be for him. This hadn't happened to her before. There was something she understood perfectly, but she had no idea how to explain it.

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Trip knew T'Pol was coming to see him over a minute before the door bell rang. He had become hyper-sensitive to her presence. He had hoped, the discomfort would subside over time. He _knew_ T'Pol was not dangerous to him. But this knowledge went straight out of the window the moment she appeared. Because when she did, all he felt was panic. A cold shiver went through him before he even saw her.

He ignored the chime and hoped, she would just go away. But of course she didn't. Of course not.

»Come in.«

»Commander. Am I disturbing you?«

»Well, I am rather busy right now …«

»Shall I return later?«

Trip sighed heavily. It was pointless. Whatever it was that she wanted from him, she would not give up. He knew that. So he might as well get over it. He forced himself to calm down. He was a professional. She was his superior officer. If he wanted to regain anything resembling a normal life, he would have to deal with this.

»No, T'Pol. That is not necessary. Actually, I am not busy at all, I was just thinking. Sorry. What can I do for you?«

»I need to speak with you. I have wanted to do so for a while, but the occasion never really arose.«

»It is not your fault, T'Pol. I guess, I have been avoiding you, and I am sorry about it. I don't know why I did it either, it's just that …«

But he couldn't go on. How do you tell a friend you hated her presence?

»There is no need to apologize, Commander. I know why you have been avoiding me. You feel uncomfortable in my presence. It _is_ my fault.«

Her words baffled him so completely, that he even forgot to be afraid of her for a moment.

»Commander, do you remember when you — due to a misunderstanding — read the private letter I had received from Vulcan?«

»Of course. I am still sorry about that.«

»There is no need to. You will probably not appreciate the irony in the fact, but this time, it is me who has to apologize.«

»For what?«

»I have made a somewhat similar mistake, Commander. And I do regret it very much! But … My point is … The reason why you feel uncomfortable in my presence is because your mind is extremely over-sensitive to telepathic contact at the moment.«

»I am not sure I understand?«

»Your mind had a very disturbing experience caused by telepathic contact. And now, any kind of psychic contact triggers the memory of the violation — and the sensations your mind associates with it.«

»This is why I feel uncomfortable in your presence?«

»Yes.«

»How come we have telepathic cont…«

Suddenly everything became perfectly clear.

»You are a telepath?«

»Yes.«

»You have telepathic contact to my mind?«

»Yes.«

»You have been _reading my mind_, T'Pol?«

»That is probably not the best way to put it, Comm—«

»How long have you been doing this?«

»I did not exactly _read_ your mind, Commander. I ju—«

»This is bullshit! There is one thing about my time with this woman I remember perfectly clear, T'Pol. She asked me one question at least a dozen times: How come my mind knows how to reciprocate telepathic contact? The way she asked it is kind of hard to forget, believe me!«

»You misunderstand—«

»Do I? How the hell DOES my mind know how to reciprocate telepathic contact then?«

»Most members of my species have touch-telepathic abilities, Commander. It appears, that during our neuro-pressure sessions your mind grew accust—«

»You read my mind while we did neuro-pressure? Are you INSANE? You call this a mistake? The word you are looking for is _rape_!«

»Commander, please let me explain. I deeply regret that I did not tell you this earlier, but —«

»I don't give a damn about your explanations, T'Pol. YOU are the one who is obsessed with her privacy! YOU are the one who never shares anything intimate. And all the while, you spy on ME?«

»I apologize sincerely, Commander. Please let me explain. I never read any thoughts, I just shared your emotions, becaus—«

»That is wonderful, Subcommander, but it doesn't make any difference at all! Zaphie wasn't interested in my intellect either, she also just _shared_ my emotions. But you know what the difference between you and her is? She did it _once_ and it lasted fifteen minutes!«

»I understand your anger, Commander. You have every right to be angry with me. But —«

»I am not angry, T'Pol. The word doesn't even begin to describe how I feel … Would you like a little more time, perhaps?«

»I am very sorry, Commander.«

»So am I. And now you better get your freaky mind out of my quarters, and stay out of them. And stay out of my mind as well! You are NOT WELCOME, do you read that?«

--------

Trip had never been so humiliated in his life. He was afraid to combust in shame. T'Pol had played him like an idiot! He had been attracted to her for so long, and he had tried to hide it, because he dared not to molest her with his feelings for her. And all the while she had KNOWN how he felt? Had she manipulated him to amuse herself? Such cruelty was beyond anything he could comprehend.

How long would she have gone on playing that little game with him? How long would she have gone on laughing about him? And why the hell had she been doing this in the first place? The stupid bitch _couldn't_ even laugh!

Only god knew what other little surprises she still had up her sleeve. He couldn't even begin to imagine, what she had all found out about him, how many of his secrets she knew. She could look right into his brain the minute she entered the room!

How was he supposed to handle all this? Knowing THIS was even worse than his experience with Zaphie ever could be — at least he didn't have to face her every single day after what she did to him. At least she was gone now! But T'Pol would not go away, and he could not hide from her either. He could do nothing at all! He would have to spend the next months of his life on the same ship with her, and he would never be able to relax, he would never be able to let his guard down, he would constantly have to run away from her!

An painful mixture of shame, humiliation, and naked panic washed over him — but he could do nothing at all. He could just sit in his dark room and watch the stars pass by.

--------

Subcommander T'Pol sat in her quarters and looked at the meditation candle before her. She had looked at it for hours, but no matter how hard she tried, she wouldn't find peace. She struggled for control, she fought against a powerful feeling of loss, but there was no way to win the fight. Under the most unlikely circumstances, she had found something, someone, who was important to her. And what had she done?

The conversation kept replaying in her mind, and she could do nothing to stop it. She could not tear her focus away from the conversation they had had two years ago.

»_Did you ever do anything totally by mistake that you weren't very proud of?_«

»_No._«

She could no longer answer _no_ to this question. She didn't even have the benefit of an honest mistake. Commander Tucker was right. There was a different word for what she had done.

»_Did you ever come across something that you thought was one thing, so you react in a certain way, but then it turned out to be something completely different?_«

»_Your point, Commander?_«

She remembered the moment vividly. She had been impatient with him. She had not been willing to really listen to him.

»_You read my letter?_«

»_Believe me, I don't feel very good about it._«

And she hadn't believed him for a second. It simply hadn't mattered, what his reasons had been. All that had mattered was, how _she_ had felt in that moment. And she had felt humiliated.

»_I have more letters in my quarters. Would you like to read those as well?_«

What had she done?

--------

The words _living hell_ didn't even come close to what the last three days had been. He hadn't thought it was possible, but the terror he felt when T'Pol was near had become even worse. And there was no way of avoiding her. There just wasn't. The emotions he felt, when she was near, almost surpassed the terror of his nightmares. He had no idea how long he could go on like this.

But no matter how bad things were, they could always get worse. Because of a single, little, stupid mistake in the computer software, a valve had malfunctioned. And this had caused a plasma conduit to overheat. And this had caused the conduit to rupture. Five meters away from the computer core responsible for the sensor array. And now, all sensors were down to 20 percent efficiency. And who was responsible for fixing this?

»Trip, the sensors are first priority. I would like you to take care of it yourself.«

»It's gonna take a while, Captain. Just putting together the spare parts for the new computer core will take at least 12 hours. And I have no idea, how difficult getting the system back up and running will be.«

»I know. That's why I want my best man to do it, Trip. I have asked T'Pol to help you. She knows the software better than anyone else on the ship.«

Trip felt a painful knot in his stomach.

»Come on, Captain! It won't go any faster when two people do it. She can't even help before the computer core is assembled, I'm sure she has better things to do than sit around and watch me work.«

»With sensors down to 20 percent, the Science Officer of the ship doesn't have anything better to do than to help fix them, Trip.«

--------

She could feel his presence. He had been standing outside for over a minute now. She could feel how disturbed he was, how afraid he was. And she had no idea what to do. Logic didn't provide any answers for a situation like this. There really were no answers, it was not in her hands anymore.

What worried her, was no so much her own distress, it was the distress Commander Tucker felt. She knew, he had barely eaten in three days. She knew, he probably hadn't slept either. She knew that his mind was in turmoil, that he was hurt, that he was in grave danger. And she knew, she could help him. But it required trust. And if he was unwilling to trust her, then there was simply nothing she could do. And he had every reason not to trust her.

--------

Trip willed himself to open the door and to enter the machine room. He knew she was inside: his hand shook when he reached for the door opener. But he would not let down his people, he would not let down the Captain. He _would_ do this.

--------

»Do you get a signal from the aft sensors?«

»No, Commander. Nothing.«

»Great. Then some part of the wiring has been fried as well.«

»I will run a diagnosis. I will be back once I have the results.«

»Take your time.«

--------

»The wiring _has_ been damaged, Commander. According to the diagnosis, panels 3 and 4 do not operate within expected parameters.«

»Do we try to fix them, or do we just replace them?«

»I will replace them. Meanwhile, why don't you take a break? You must be hungry.«

»I'd rather get this done as soon as possible.«

»I have brought food from the mess hall.«

Trip looked at her for the first time in hours. She was indeed carrying a tray with several dishes.

»I am not hungry.«

»I have brought pie as well.«

»I am really not hungry.«

»You once told me that pie would be good for the soul, Commander. Perhaps you should allow yourself the pleasure, even if you are not hungry?«

»Why don't we keep our attention to the job?«

T'Pol said nothing. She simply put the tray down, staying several meters away from him all the time. Then she walked to the other end of the room, sat down in the corner, and began to eat the piece of pie she had brought for herself.

»Didn't you want to replace the panels?«

»I will in just a moment, Commander.«

»And I thought you Vulcans didn't appreciate sweets.«

He had muttered the words to himself, but _of course_ T'Pol had heard him.

»We Vulcans don't, but I do. It reminds me of the day I listened to your advice for the first time.«

»In the name of the lord, T'Pol, please do NOT play any mind games with me right now!«

»I have never played any games with you, Commander.«

»Listen. I know what you are trying to do. I appreciate the effort. But just drop it, okay?«

»I find it very difficult to suppress these thoughts, Commander. I feel regret because of the mistake I have made, and I don't know how to deal with the knowledge.«

»And now what? Do you expect _me_ to care?«

»Only a few days ago, we used to help each other dealing with the experiences we have made.«

»But a lot of things have happened since _a few days ago_. And it cannot be unmade.«

»When you told me how you had read my letter, it was very difficult for me to deal with the fact, that my privacy had been violated. There were many different emotions I had to overcome. But in the end, this strange incident has been very important for my life. This was the day, when I trusted you for the first time. Now I realize, I may have lost your trust, because of a mistake of the exact same nature. I am unprepared to accept, that the outcome has to be so different this time. I wish, I had a chance to return what you have given me.«

»It is hardly possible, T'Pol. For all I know, I have _given you_ intimate knowledge about my thoughts and emotions!«

»It is possible, if you are willing to listen.«

She could feel his conflict. She could feel how he struggled for control. And she had no idea what to do. She knew, would she get up and take a single step in his direction, she would push him away. She could only hope, he took a step towards her.

But he did not.

--------

Trip sat in his quarters and watched the stars pass by. He was exhausted beyond description. He had spent the whole day in the same room with T'Pol, and they weren't even finished with the repairs yet. For a minute, he considered going back there and trying to get the repairs done alone over the night, so he wouldn't have to face her tomorrow. But it was pointless. He couldn't avoid her anyway, and he certainly couldn't concentrate anymore.

He knew he needed to sleep. Nightmares or not, there simply was no alternative. So he pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and rested his chin on his knees. He watched the stars while waiting for the inevitable to happen.

»T'Pol?«

»Commander, I will help you. But you must trust me.«

»I am in so much pain, T'Pol!«

»I know. Trust me. Take my hand.«

Trip woke up drenched in sweat. With a sudden movement he tried to get away from the menace that threatened him, but he only succeeded in toppling over with the chair he had fallen asleep in. And for the longest time, he just lay on the floor and fought for control.

--------

»Commander?«

»Are you still willing to talk, T'Pol?«

»Of course. Please, come in.«

Trip noticed how she backed off, how she tried to stay at a distance from him. Every fiber of his body yelled at him to run away, but he had no idea where else to go. It didn't matter, what she had done to him. She had been right, of all the people on this ship, she was the only one who understood.

He entered her quarters cautiously and slumped down on the wall, right next to the door. T'Pol lightened several of the meditation candles and sat down too. She sat at the other end of the room. To say the situation was awkward would have been an understatement. For several minutes, they just sat there in silence.

»I believe, I am far from being your first choice to talk to?«

»That's right.«

»But since I already know of your problem, it is only logical to speak to me. It means, fewer people will know of it.«

Trip couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all, and it almost shattered T'Pol's control on the spot. She had had no idea, how much she had missed this sound.

»Did you have nightmares after … after your mind was violated, T'Pol?«

»Vulcans don't dream, but meditation serves the same purpose your dreams do. So in a way, I did have nightmares. It was very disturbing.«

»Your meditation helped you handle the experience?«

»No, not really. I was unable to focus, my mind was in great unrest. The attempts to meditate only brought back the painful memories. After several days, I was unable to meditate at all. Very much like you are unable to sleep.«

»But how _did_ you handle it?«

»I found relief in the presence of a mind I trusted.«

That was not what he had wanted to hear.

»After Rajiin had forced my mind open, the emotions overwhelmed me. I was very afraid all the time, I was scared of the Humans around me. So I withdrew. But it didn't help, the pain only became worse. I felt isolated, alone. And I was afraid, that I would never be able to control these feelings, that I would feel like this for the rest of my life. But your presence comforted me. It still does.«

»And it didn't occur to you, that you were invading into _my_ privacy in the process?«

»I know it must be almost impossible for you to believe me, Commander. But you should not think of it like this. I simply accepted what you were giving me, I didn't ever force you.«

»But I didn't _know_ my mind was giving you anything, T'Pol. You took advantage of me.«

»I know, and I do regret it deeply.«

»Then why did you do it?«

»I was afraid, that if I told you, you would withdraw.«

»I would have.«

»I would not have known how to deal with my emotions without your presence, Commander. I was scared. I know it was a mistake, but at the time, I thought I didn't have a choice.«

»You could have asked me for help.«

»I am Vulcan. I am not supposed to need help with my emotions. I am not supposed to feel any emotion at all. For my whole life, this is what I have been taught, what was expected of me. As you will remember, I used to deny I even _had_ emotions. I would rather have died than admit to weakness.«

»And now you do?«

»I have changed.«

»I have noticed.«

»I realized, it is illogical to deny facts I know are true. I realized, admitting to weakness is necessary before it can be overcome.«

»You sound like a human, T'Pol.«

»There is no need to insult me, Commander.«

He smiled at her response, and she felt this wonderful emotion in him again. She had had no idea, how much she had missed him.

»Do you think there still is pie left, T'Pol?«

»We could go and look.«

--------

»I wish, I could just suppress my emotions, T'Pol. I would have never thought I would say this, but lately, I don't enjoy feeling them anymore.«

»Perhaps you feel like this because you do try to suppress them, Commander? Not long ago, you used to be very open with your emotions, and you seemed to be much more content at the time.«

»Sure. Back then, there was no need to suppress anything. But things have changed. I have changed.«

»I have noticed.«

»I have no idea when this has happened, T'Pol. Somewhere along the road, something went terribly wrong.«

»Sometimes, I believe everything has gone terribly wrong ever since Earth has been attacked. None of this is right. None of this should have happened. But I try to remind myself, that good things have happened as well.«

»Such as?«

»If I could choose between my former life and I my life now, I wouldn't hesitate to stay on ENTERPRISE again. I have become a much more logical person since I have been aboard this ship.«

»I doubt Ambassador Soval would agree.«

»I am sure he wouldn't. He is not willing to see beyond his preconceptions. He is afraid of everything he cannot control. Almost all of my people are.«

»Believe it or not, but Humans and Vulcans aren't very different in that regard. We fear things we don't understand as well.«

»Still Humanity has evolved at a much quicker pace than Vulcans did. You are more willing to embrace change than we are. Vulcans need a logical explanation for everything. We cannot exist without it. For the longest time I thought, that made us superior to other species. But in fact, it is our greatest weakness.«

»I can't believe you have just said that.«

»Not long ago, I would not have.«

While they sat in silence for a moment, Trip studied T'Pol. He looked her straight in the face for the first time in days. She looked far too fragile to be dangerous, he thought. She was far too gentle to be a threat to him. So why did it feel like she was?

»Why are you so open to me now, T'Pol? Why are you telling me these things?«

»I have to … I simply have to share these thoughts and emotions. It is the only way I know, how to make them subside. They are too strong to be controlled, I cannot do it alone.«

»Wait — did I get that right? You cannot control your emotions?«

»Yes.«

»You _feel_ emotions, in this very moment?«

»Yes. It is unsettling.«

»What do you feel?«

»I am sorry.«

Trip had heard these words a million times, he had said them himself only god knew how often, but he never understood before, what they really meant. It had required a _Vulcan_ to show it to him. Now that _she_ said it, it wasn't just an apology, just a phrase you use, it was the most intimate and honest thing anyone had ever said to him. And he had no idea what to answer to that.

--------

»T'Pol, you have to help me! Somet—«

»It would be illogical to help you, Commander.«

»What?«

»By helping you, I would only put myself into danger. The risk is not worth it.«

»T'Pol, PLEASE!«

»You simply don't understand, do you? I don't CARE!

»No. That is not true.«

Trip woke up in his bed. For a moment, he was disoriented, so he switched on the lights. He had slept for three hours. He certainly didn't feel rested; he still was sore, exhausted, and frightened. But he knew he had begun to heal.

--------

»The starboard sensors are still not fully operational, Commander. We must have missed something.«

»I think, I have an idea. There is a safety mechanism in Engineering, which protects the sensor array against overloads. The damage to the computer core may have triggered it. I'll go take a look.«

--------

»I guess that was it, T'Pol.«

»Yes, sensors are at 100 percent now.«

»Then we have earned a break, I'd say. I came by the mess hall on my way back. I brought pie.«

T'Pol looked first at him, then at the two pieces of pie he was carrying.

»May I have the blueberry?«

--------

Trip sat in his quarters and watched the stars. The repairs had progressed better than he had expected, the Captain was very pleased. He wasn't sure what _he_ felt, though. He was pleased too, but it felt wrong to be pleased. He realized, he had almost forgotten what it felt like! Over the last weeks, his work had been a chore. Something, he had to get through somehow. He wasn't prepared for the satisfaction he suddenly felt. He remembered, that it used to be like this, he used to be satisfied by his work. But when was the last time it _had been_ like this? It felt like decades ago … but that could not be right?

An unexpected, cold shiver startled him out of his thoughts. It took only a moment before he heard the soft chime.

»Come in, Subcommander.«

She entered the room and waited, until the door had closed, but she did not approach him. She remained standing next to the door.

»How did you know it was me?«

»I can feel it.«

»I apologize, Commander. I try to shield my mind in your presence, but I am not entirely successful, and you seem to be very sensitive.«

Trip wondered what _she_ felt in his presence. She had said, she shared his emotions? His emotions were in turmoil, so she would feel a turmoil of emotions. That had to be horrible for her. Why did she seem to seek for his presence then?

He nodded towards the meditation candles she was carrying.

»You wanted to bring me these?«

»You should not sit in the dark.«

»Thank you, Subcommander.«

She shifted slightly, but remained standing by the door.

»You will need permission from the Captain before you can use them however, Commander.«

»Of course.«

There was an uncomfortable silence between them. Neither seemed to know what to say next.

»He gave you special permission, right?«

»Yes.«

»Do you think it would fall within your authority to … well, supervise the use of the candles?«

»I think it does.«

»In that case, why don't you stay here for a while? I wouldn't have to bother the Captain at this hour.«

»That would be logical, Commander.«

For another moment they were silent. T'Pol still stood at the door and held the candles awkwardly.

Trip got out of his chair, stepped over to his bed, and sat down on the floor in front of it, resting his back against it.

»Would you like to sit down and talk?«

She just nodded. Then she turned slightly, studied the floor around her, and sat down next to the door. It felt incredibly awkward.

»You said, you cannot shield your mind entirely, T'Pol. Do you share my emotions right now?«

»Yes. To a certain degree.«

»Is that why you stay at a distance?«

»Yes.«

»It bothers you?«

»Yes.«

»I am sorry, T'Pol. I wish, I would know how to shield my mind too.«

»You misunderstand. The distance bothers me.«

She was right. He did not understand.

»You don't mind the emotions?«

»I don't wish to intrude.«

»You already have!«

Trip regretted his words immediately, it was a pointless accusation. But he couldn't help it, he was still hurt. He just couldn't let it go.

»I don't wish to repeat the mistake.«

»You are right, T'Pol. I do not understand. Why did you do it? I simply cannot believe you did not realize how wrong it was.«

»For quite a while, I didn't even consciously recognize that the emotions I felt were yours, Commander. I expected there to be telepathic contact during the neuro-pressure. It is an intimate procedure. But your emotions were so similar to mine, it was hardly noticeable at first. So I concluded, that you were not receptive to telepathy. It was a mistake.«

»You didn't _notice_?«

»Not at first.«

»And when _did_ you notice?«

»After I was abused by Rajiin.«

Why did it always sound like _she_ was the victim when they talked? Why was he listening to this? _He_ was the victim!

»That was the first time your emotions felt very different from mine. I was in distress, and when I touched you, there was so much warmth! You cared for me. It soothed me. I couldn't let go, I couldn't stop myself. I consumed your emotions, I allowed myself to feel them.«

Trip just couldn't understand it. Why was he no longer angry at her? Why did he feel for her, when _he_ was in so much pain? It was illogical!

»But that was several weeks ago, T'Pol! You should have told me. I had no idea how intimate this was for you. I had a right to know.«

»I had grown accustomed to your affection, Commander. It had become part of my routine. Suddenly, I needed it. I couldn't let it go. I was afraid to be alone again. I still am.«

Trip just looked at her and said nothing. What right had he to accuse her? He had felt the same way about her, and he hadn't told her either! But now she _had_ told him. And he had no idea how to answer. What _did_ he feel? What could he tell her?

»I am sorry, T'Pol.«

Trip fought hard to hold the tears back. There was _no way_ he would allow himself to cry now, NO WAY! He blinked furiously and wiped his face with the ball of his thumb. It took a while, before his vision had cleared up, before he could really see again. But when he saw T'Pol, the tears began to fall.

--------

T'Pol struggled for control. She would NOT allow herself to cry! If there had ever been a moment in her life where she had to be strong, it was now. She tried to calm herself, she recited the appropriate chapters from Surak's writings in her mind furiously. And just when she had thought she would succeed, she saw Commander Tucker's tears, and all control was gone.

--------

Trip was embarrassed as hell. He wiped his face once more, he blinked, he tried to hide. But he could not hide from her anyway. He felt her presence in his mind. She knew exactly how he felt.

»Subcommander …« He had to clear this throat before he could go on. »… why don't you lighten the meditation candles?«

»I forgot the lighter.«

»Wait, I think I have one.«

He got up and rummaged in several drawers. He was thankful for the chance to compose himself. When he found the lighter, he wondered what to do next. He stood there, with the lighter in his hand, and looked at T'Pol. She had remained sitting by the door. For the longest time, they looked at each other.

He had no idea what to say. So he went back to his spot by the bed and sat down again. He hoped, she would just understand.

T'Pol didn't move for several moments. Then she slowly raised to her feet and walked over to him. She moved, as if she were walking on eggshells. She gingerly sat down next to him, resting with her back against the bed like he did. Without looking at him, she held out a candle for him to lighten it, and he did not look at her either. As he lightened it, they both looked at the flame. But their hands where within centimeters of each other. They did not move for an eternity.

--------

»How does it feel to have telepathic contact with me, T'Pol? Do you know what I think?«

»It is difficult to explain. I don't actively know or see your thoughts or emotions. I share them. They are hardly distinguishable from my own. Your mind reciprocates the contact, Commander, you share my thoughts and emotions as well, and you didn't notice it either. It is not a conscious process.«

»Don't my emotions threaten your control?«

»On the contrary, Commander. They soothe me.«

»You are kidding?«

»The knowledge that we share them soothes me. The knowledge, that I am not alone.«

»Your presence soothes me as well, T'Pol.«

»Thank you, Commander.«

In this moment, T'Pol longed for his presence. She knew, he would feel warmth in this moment. She knew, it would feel wonderful to be close to him in this moment. But she did not dare to ask. She feared, she would push him away if she took a single step in his direction. She could do nothing at all. She could only hope, he took a step towards her.

»You still shield your mind, T'Pol.«

»Yes.«

»Why?«

»If I opened my mind, I would put myself into danger.«

Trip swallowed hard, and his voice was coarse when he asked her:

»Why would it put you into danger?«

Because his feelings would powerfully remind her of her own experiences. It was impossible that she could deal with these feelings alone. She could not take, she could only share. She would need to give him back. And would he be unwilling to care about her feelings in return, unwilling to help her with them, then they would overwhelm her. They would destroy her control, they would destroy her sanity, they would destroy her mind.

»You feel so much pain.«

»Please help me, T'Pol.«

She would not make the same mistake twice.

»I will help you. Take my hand.«

She would have to trust him.

--------

Trip looked at her offered hand. He hesitated briefly, but then he laid his hand into hers, just like he did in his nightmares. Instantly, he felt the encompassing pain, the fear, the desperation, the helplessness, just like he had before. But there was nothing he could do. He allowed it. He gave in. He gave it all to her.

--------

T'Pol took everything in, she accepted every sensation he gave her. She experienced his nightmares and focused on them with intensity; she desperately tried to understand his pain, she tried to find a way to help him. She re-lived her own experiences, she compared his feelings with her own, she searched for clues what she might do, what she could tell him. There had to be something he had missed, something she could point out to help him understand. Something she could do to ease his pain.

But she realized: there just wasn't anything she could say. She could do nothing at all! And naked panic crept up her spine, as her control began to slip.

--------

For a split-second, he felt relieved. Then panic hit him again, powerful helplessness washed over him, images came to him, memories and emotions just crashed into his mind. But they were not his, they were hers! And he understood exactly how she felt, because she felt exactly like he did.

For the first time in so long, he was not alone!

He pulled her closer, desperately afraid she would leave him now. He embraced her and pressed her against himself, he kissed her face and nuzzled it with his own. He wanted nothing but to be close to her. He wanted to share.

--------

When the meditation candles expunged, T'Pol realized, how much time had passed already. She looked at his face and studied it. He looked peaceful. He had fallen asleep long ago, but she refused to release him from her arms. She would not let go until she absolutely had to. For the first time in so long, she was not alone.

When she had lost control, he had not pushed her away — he had hungered for her pain! He had taken everything in, he had accepted every sensation she gave him, and now, all pain was gone. She had wanted to help him, but he had helped her instead! How was this possible?

She stroked his face tenderly, careful not to wake him up. She focused on his emotions. They were strong. And he felt exactly like she did. She fought for control, she tried to resist the powerful sensation, she battled for composture until she had no strength left, and finally she gave in … and smiled.

--------

»Good morning, Commander.«

Trip blinked several times.

»Is this real?«

»Of course it is.«

He looked around the room in disbelief. It certainly _seemed_ real, but the thought of waking up in the arms of Subcommander T'Pol was too bizarre to accept.

»I fell asleep? Like this?«

»You were very exhausted.«

»How long have I been sleeping?«

»It is almost 0700 hours.«

»The whole night?«

»Yes.«

»Like this?«

»Yes.«

She had held him in her arms the entire night? This couldn't be real.

»What about you? You were exhausted as well.«

»I didn't want to leave.«

»You would have missed me, wouldn't you?«

»No. I just didn't want to wake you up.«

»Of course!«

»You needed to rest.«

»Right.«

»You hadn't slept in days!«

»I hadn't.«

»Commander, it falls within the duties of the First Officer to be concerned about the well-being of the crew.«

»You were performing your duties?«

»Of course.«

»Admirable.«

»There is no need to grin, Commander.«

»Why are you still holding me?«

»I will release you, if you wish.«

»Please, go ahead.«

Nothing happened.

»Why don't you get up, Commander?«

»You are still holding me.«

»I will release you, just get up.«

»It is hard to do so, when you're _holding_ me.«

»You still feel weak?«

»Yeah, I have to admit I do.«

»Just allow yourself to rest for a moment longer, Commander. There is still time.«

»I hope you don't mind?«

»I will ignore the discomfort.«

»Good thing you are so disciplined, T'Pol.«

T'Pol pulled herself together. She would NOT smile!

»You know, T'Pol, it's time for breakfast … and I am quite hungry. Would you care to accompany me?«

»Do you think there still is pie left?«

»Let's go and look.«

TO BE CONTINUED


	2. Touching the Mind

**Touching the Mind**

**Summary:** The friendship begun in »Healing the Mind« grows deeper.

**Author's Note:** Once more I owe gratitude to Clicks for proof-reading this text and for making many helpful suggestions how to improve it. _Thank you!_ I'd also like to acknowledge the inspiration the great story »The Firebrand« provided, the ritual performed in my story is quite similar, as you will notice.

--------

A week has passed.

--------

»Commander. Please, come in.«

Trip entered her quarters and found them neatly arranged for his visit. The room was illuminated by meditation candles, which were carefully decorated around a spot in the center. There, she had prepared two pillows on the floor, opposite of each other, only a meter afar.

As they sat down, Trip couldn't help himself.

»Gee, Subcommander, this atmosphere is really romantic! I wouldn't have expected that from a Vulcan.«

»You are very perceptive, Commander.«

What was that supposed to mean?

»Uh. You aimed for a romantic atmosphere?«

»Of course. Vulcans do appreciate esthetic beauty, Commander. Many ceremonies are set in surroundings, which reinforce the meaning by symbolism … such as forms and lights.«

»Ceremonies?«

»Yes.«

»Right. Do you plan to hold a ceremony?«

»I hoped, you would agree.«

WHAT?

»Wait a minute, T'Pol. I am not su—«

»Perhaps, if you would let me explain what the ceremony _is_, Commander, you would be better prepared to decide?«

»Of course … I was just surprised for a moment.«

»Why are you surprised?«

»I don't know … the atmosphere, the lightning, the cushions … it's just surprisingly intimate. On Earth, I would feel as if I were on a date.«

»Thank you, Commander.«

Wait! What was going on here? Just what exactly had he just said? And what had she heard?!?

»Why do you say _thank you_?«

»It was difficult to estimate, what level of lightening you would perceive as _romantic_, as you put it. I was also uncertain of the right distance between us you. All these factors are highly subjective. It pleases me to hear, that I have been successful.«

»You appreciate compliments?«

»Of course.«

»Subcommander, I have to admit, I am starting to get _very_ curious about this ceremony.«

»I will explain.«

She got up gracefully and fetched a small tray from her desk. She put it down between them, and sat down again. On the tray lay two stencils, a brush, and a small tank of liquid.

T'Pol pointed at the liquid.

»This is _le-matya gisam_ — the venom of the _le-matya_. It is, of course, a medically refined substance, from which the toxic elements have been removed, but the substance does still have an acidic effect on skin.«

She paused to look at Trip. Then she took up one of the stencils and gave it to him. It had approximately the size of his hand and the material felt like thin cork. An alien calligraphy had been carved into it. He held the stencil with the back against a candle to see the symbols better. They were decidedly Vulcan. The calligraphy consisted only of straight lines and regular curves, but they were put together to form a complex shape, which appeared to be three-dimensional, even in this crude rendering. It was beautiful.

»This is a rendering of your name in Vulcan calligraphy, Commander. It is more of an artistic rendering than accurate writing, because it has to fit into the small space.«

Trip compared the stencil to his hand.

»Fits exactly on the palm.«

»Exactly, Commander.«

T'Pol showed him the other stencil.

»This is my name, rendered in the same way.«

»You made these stencils?«

»Yes.«

»They are beautiful, T'Pol.«

»They also have a purpose, Commander.«

»And I can guess what it is. To apply the calligraphy to the skin with … what was the name?«

»_Le-matya gisam_. You are right. According to the ritual, you apply your name's calligraphy to your right hand, I apply my name's calligraphy to my left hand, and then we will press our palms together, so that the renderings will mix and form a unique and new rendering. In both of our hands.«

»How does this … stuff react on the skin?«

»It is a slow reaction. The _le-matya gisam_ will mildly irritate the skin at first, but there is more to it. We will try to hold our hands together for as long as we can. Think of it as a way to measure our friendship, Commander. The sense of discomfort will rise over time. The longer we keep our palms together, the more severe the reaction becomes. The substance is, after all, acidic.«

»The longer we choose to bear the discomfort, the stronger our friendship is?«

»Yes.«

»This is really childish, T'Pol. I like it! In fact, we have similar rituals on Earth. Only, they are usually performed by children.«

»So is this ritual, Commander.«

Trip was moved by T'Pol's offer. She was asking him to become the Vulcan version of blood brothers. It really felt childish, but in a straight-forward way it was also profoundly intimate. He could tell it meant something to her. And he could see why. The thought of having their names branded on their skin for a few days was invigorating. It felt, like they _were_ children committing some mischief!

»I am honored, T'Pol. I really mean it.«

»There is another element to the ritual, Commander. A spiritual connection, which is far more binding than the pain we share. While our palms touch, we can see each other's thoughts.«

»I'm not sure I follow …«

»Our minds will touch, so to speak, there will be a telepathic connection between us, which allows us to hear and to see each other's thoughts. It is very intimate.«

»I can imagine.«

»No, you probably cannot. Just consider this, Commander: It is _impossible_ to lie. You will hear my thoughts the moment I think them, I will see your memories the instant they come to you. Neither of us can pretend — or withhold.«

»That sounds very intimate.«

»It is. According to the ritual, we will ask each other questions alternately. And because of the nature of the link, we can only answer truthfully.«

This didn't sound childish anymore. This wasn't just a ritual of blood brothers — this was _Truth or Dare_, but with both truth and dare rolled into one and magnified a thousandfold!

»It sounds incredibly intimate, T'Pol.«

»Either of us may break the touch, Commander, and the ritual will end. This is how the trust is measured. Neither of us is forced to reveal, we will only find out what we are willing to share. Besides, the discomfort from the poison will become significant after a short while.«

»You are willing to do this, T'Pol?«

»Obviously.«

It couldn't be so bad then? Could it? He was very curious to see her thoughts, but the price, that she would see his in return, seemed very high. He had no idea what inappropriate things might pop into his mind while they held hands. This ritual was a lot more intense than _Truth or Dare_.

He drifted in thoughts for several moments, before T'Pol addressed him again.

»Do you need time to consider your choice, Commander? You appear to be uncertain.«

»No. Let's do it. I admit the whole idea is a bit scary, but I am curious.«

T'Pol looked him straight in the face, and something glinted in her eyes as she spoke.

»So am I.«

Without further hesitation, she placed the stencil with her name on her left hand, so that the cut-out calligraphy rested centered on her palm. She took up the brush, dipped it in the liquid on the tray, and dispensed the venom on her palm, through the stencil, in slow and methodical strokes.

The _mild reaction_ she had predicted came in form of a soft fizzling sound and a nauseating smell. Her skin turned dark green the instant it touched the liquid. Once she removed the stencil, he could see the calligraphy burnt into her skin quite vividly.

Trip swallowed.

T'Pol studied her hand with intensity. She stared at the symbol in her palm, and for a moment Trip thought, she would break into a smile. She seemed to be mesmerized. Slowly she raised her face to look at him. Her eyes were wide open and receptive, but her gaze was lazy, as if she were dreaming. A miniscule amount of sweat gleamed in the candle light on her brow and cheekbones. She looked breath-takingly beautiful.

Trip placed his stencil on his right palm, then looked at T'Pol, unsure what to do. She motioned him to reach out towards her, then she dipped the brush in the liquid thoroughly. The fizzling sound repeated itself, when she began to apply the venom to his palm. The pain hit Trip like a wall, before it subsided into a slight buzzing.

The instant of pain had catapulted him into a state of alert; his body throbbed with life, the blood rushed through his veins, and the lightening in the room had become more intense. He blinked to clear his vision, and then he looked at the symbol branded into his palm. The calligraphy had remained perfectly clear, the lines were fine and graceful.

The sight was exciting. He could feel the subtle pain throb on his palm, he closed his eyes and felt the lines that were burnt into his skin. He could see the calligraphy in his mind with closed eyes, only by the throbbing feeling in his hand. It was mesmerizing.

»Commander.«

T'Pol's voice startled him. He opened his eyes and looked at her. She knelt on her cushion only centimeters away from him and held up her left hand, the palm towards him. He looked at the calligraphy in her hand and compared it with his own. He wondered, what the symbols would look like once they were printed over each other. Soon he would know.

His right hand reached out and met hers. Their palms pressed against each other with force and their fingers interlocked. Then Trip felt a flash in his mind.

--------

»T'Pol?«

»Yes.«

»This is _incredible_! I can really feel you … as if you were a part of me!«

»In this moment, I am, Commander.«

»You really think of me as _Commander_, T'Pol?«

»You have never offered to be addressed by your given name, Commander Tucker.«

Trip laughed at the absurdity.

»I offered you to call me _Trip_ the moment we met.«

»That is not your given name.«

»I see. Well, fine … my point is, I would never have minded if you had addressed me as _Charles_. I call you _T'Pol_ all the time.«

»Indeed.«

»Did you mind?«

»No.«

»Why not?«

»It is my turn to ask you something, Charles.«

One more time, Trip laughed out loud. T'Pol was simply wonderful.

»You are priceless, T'Pol. Please, ask me something.«

»Why are you not married?«

Why did she ask him that?

»I am curious.«

»Wha—«

And then he realized: She could hear his _thoughts_!

»You can hear mine as well, Charles.«

»This is _very_ intimate, T'Pol. I am not sure—«

»Please do not sever the link!«

Now he knew that he could hear her thoughts: T'Pol would never have said that aloud!

»No, I would not have.«

»This is frightening, T'Pol. This connection feels vastly different than the one we have during neuro-pressure.«

»Our consciousnesses are one, Charles. This is much more intimate than the emotional link we shared. Now we share _thoughts_, not just abstract feelings.«

»Do all friends on Vulcan perform this ritual?«

»You have to answer my question first.«

»Come on … mine was not a personal question. That doesn't count.«

»Of course it counts. I had already asked!«

»You are stubborn.«

»No, you are stubborn. Why don't you answer?«

»Fine. I am not married because I never found the right girl.«

»You seemed to be attracted to several females during the course of our mission.«

»Did I?«

Suddenly an image of Princess Kaitaama popped into his mind, but he had barely recognized her. She looked anorexic. Her limbs were asymmetric and awry. Her black hair was dirty and looked like straw. She was a witch.

»This is how you remember her, T'Pol?«

»Of course. That is how she looked.«

And memories popped into Trip's mind, he remembered her very differently. He remembered how she had kissed him, how she had ripped her clothes off her body and had looked at him with passion in her eyes. He remembered the touch of her skin on his, as they lay on top of each other in the midst of the swamp. He remembered the intimacy they had shared.

A powerful emotion interrupted his thoughts, and it came from her. Then he realized, she had shared all these memories with him!

»Charles, please do not sever the link!«

»I am sorry, T'Pol! It's inappropriate to … uh, I shouldn't have thought of, well, that.«

»You appreciated her. You think of her with warmth and respect.«

»Yes.«

»But you never considered her as a bride?«

»No. Our relationship wasn't like that.«

»But still you chose to share sexual intimacy with her?«

»Yes. And it would be unfair to say I'd regret it.«

»How do you distinguish a female you consider as a mate from one you consider for life-long companionship? I don't understand this aspect of your species.«

»There is no clear distinction. A bond of marriage encompasses much more than physical attraction. It's a deeper appreciation than sexual intimacy. It can grow out of sex — or sexual intimacy can grow out of appreciation.«

»You have never found a female you appreciated enough to consider a life-long bond?«

»No.«

»That's hard to believe.«

»I was close once. Natalie … Her name was Natalie. But before we had a chance to find out how deep our feelings are, ENTERPRISE was launched and we were separated. That was the end of it.«

And he had learned of it through a letter. He didn't even have a chance to say good-bye face to face.

»I feel your sorrow, Charles.«

»It's not that bad, actually. Had she been the right girl, she would have waited, wouldn't she?«

»Yes, she would have.«

It felt wonderful to hear her say that.

»Wait — you have asked me dozens of questions by now, T'Pol! You cheated!«

»No, I asked only one question. I merely needed to clarify your responses, Charles. That doesn't count.«

»You can't be serious?«

»It is not my fault that your thoughts are so undisciplined.«

»Then I look forward to your disciplined thoughts, T'Pol! Tell me, why are _you_ not married?«

»As you know, I broke my engagement to Kos because I wanted to stay on ENTERPRISE.«

»I know.«

»This is the reason.«

»That is all?«

»Of course.«

»You have no other thoughts concerning that?«

»No.«

»The only reason why you are not married is because it didn't fit your schedule?«

»The analogy is crude, but somewhat accurate.«

»There is no emotional attachment whatsoever?«

»This is a new question, Charles.«

»You are cheating, T'Pol!«

»I am more disciplined.«

»Fine. I have time. It's your turn.«

»Why did you hesitate to agree to the neuro-pressure treatments?«

Oh my god, what kind of question was this? Did he hesitate? Yes, he did … but why? A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, too fast to focus on any single reason. Why did he hesitate? Because—

»You were afraid of the intimacy?«

»Well, yes.«

»I would never have guessed this, Charles. It doesn't make any sense. Your behavior with … other females does not suggest you are afraid of physical intimacy.«

»You cannot compare that.«

»Why not?«

»The point is not the physical intimacy, T'Pol. We are colleagues. I didn't want to overstep any boundaries.«

»How could you overstep boundaries? I _offered_ to perform the procedure.«

»It is more complicated than that, T'Pol. I have these volatile emotions, remember?«

»So you were really afraid of emotional intimacy?«

»For all I knew back then, I would have never thought you even understood the concept of emotional intimacy, T'Pol. I had no idea you were capable of forming a friendship — in human terms.«

»You cannot control whether you appreciate someone emotionally?«

»No. It's subconscious.«

»And you were afraid, you would appreciate me as a friend but I would not reciprocate? And that would have hurt you?«

»Yes.«

»How are these emotions of friendship related to the neuro-pressure?«

»I think that's a new question, T'Pol.«

»No, it is an attempt to clarify your response.«

There were moments when he hated her.

»Fine! … I was afraid, the emotions of friendship would turn into more.«

»You were attracted to me?«

»Yes. And that's the last thing I'm going to say on this topic, T'Pol! I have answered your question thoroughly.«

»Very well. What would you like to know?«

»I understand, Phlox had to convince you to agree to the neuro-pressure as well? You also hesitated?«

»Yes.«

»Why?«

»For exactly the same reason you did.«

»This is all?«

»Of course.«

»You are cheating, T'Pol.«

»Would you like me to repeat your words?«

»Yes, as a matter of fact, I would.«

»I felt attracted to you, but was uncertain you would be able to reciprocate on a mature level.«

»I beg your pardon?«

»Your previous behavior suggested you were rather instinct-driven.«

»WHAT?«

»There is no need to be angered, Charles.«

»Of course there is, did you hear what you just told me?«

»Only moments before, you told me you thought I was unable to comprehend the concept of friendship, Charles. This was not flattering for me either. We both misjudged the other.«

She was right, he knew it. Only a few weeks ago, he had seen T'Pol with completely different eyes. He had had no idea what she really was like. There was much more under her controlled surface than she allowed anybody to see.

He could see her.

Interesting.

»Why did you propose to perform this ritual, T'Pol?«

T'Pol was startled. It was an obvious enough question, she should have anticipated that he would ask this. But why had she? How could she explain emotions she wasn't even supposed to have? Why did she long for his presence? Why did she feel off-balance, when she hadn't seen him for too long? Because—

»You like me.«

»Yes.«

»You feel conflict because of that?«

»Yes. I am not supposed to like or dislike anyone.«

»But you do.«

»Apparently.«

»Why do you feel conflict over that?«

»I feel, like I have become dependent on you. As if I were no longer strong enough to exist on my own. This is wrong.«

»Why is it wrong to depend on someone else? Don't you see the logical advantages of not being alone?«

»These advantages necessitate a significant amount of trust.«

»And whether you can trust me or not is what you hope to determine through this ritual?«

»Yes.«

»That's very logical.«

»Thank you.«

Trip smiled at her. His thoughts smiled at her. He suddenly understood what had changed. His perception had changed. She had concluded _by logic_ to perform this ritual. Only six months ago, he would have seen this act as cold, as devoid of affection. But now, he saw that it was everything but cold. He had stopped seeing the logic, and begun to see the affection behind it. The care behind it. Now he was able to understand what this ritual really meant. He had learned to appreciate her.

»My perception has also changed, Charles.«

Argh, she had heard all—

»I have learned to appreciate the emotional intimacy.«

»You do?«

»Yes. It is soothing. I am much more efficient in my daily routine when I feel your presence regularly. Sharing my emotions with you makes them easier to control.«

»This is a wonderful compliment, T'Pol. Thank you.«

»I knew you would appreciate it.«

»I bet you did.«

They both focused on the mirth they felt, they shared it, they just looked at each other and smiled in their thoughts. In this moment, everything else ceased to exist.

Then the feeling was replaced by something else. By mischief.

»I have learned other things, Charles.«

He recognized the tone of voice immediately. She would now hit him with something he couldn't possibly handle, and she knew it, and she did it on purpose. He grinned at her.

»And what would that be, T'Pol?«

»Strong emotional control has certain benefits.«

»I am curious.«

»Would you like me to show you?«

And he knew exactly what she would do. His grin grew really wide now. He might be slow sometimes, but he recognized _this_ look. He had been kissed before.

»Go on. Surprise me.«

But she kissed him with her _mind_. She grabbed his focus and forced him to attention, he felt powerfully drawn to her, he was drawn into her mind so completely that he forgot his body existed. And then the sensations began to wash over him, he saw how she kissed him. He could see the image in his mind, and it came from her. He was drawn into it — and suddenly it was completely real! She kissed him hungrily, and billions of small details registered in his brain simultaneously. Just the taste of her mouth overwhelmed him with impressions, her tongue was soft, very warm, and it caressed him with affection. Her hot breath hit his face, it mixed with his own erratic breaths and warmed his skin with promise. He longed for her like he had never longed for anything.

And then she was gone! Trip felt the loss powerfully, he was speechless. His mind was numb. His thoughts wavered, while he looked at her. And he saw her smile. He felt her emotions. He felt how pleased she was with his reaction. How pleased she was with herself! He had no idea how to fathom all this.

»Was the experience pleasurable, Charles?«

He knew that she knew damn well it was.

»I thought Vulcans didn't grin?«

»Why don't you answer my question?«

»You know it was.«

»I am pleased to hear that.«

Trip laughed out loud.

»You are full of surprises, T'Pol.«

He simply smiled at her. He saw an image of her mind, he saw past her control, he could see her return the smile. No-one else could. It was a wonderful gift.

»I would like to return that gift to you, T'Pol.«

»Go on. Surprise me.«

When he leaned in and kissed her on the mouth, T'Pol was startled out of her focus immediately. Her mental discipline ruptured, then collapsed completely. The sensation had taken her totally by surprise. He tasted different than anything she could have imagined. He tasted like a large cat, like a flesh-eating predator. His smell was virile. His kiss demanded her attention, she could only react to his movements, she was powerless to move on her on will, so lost was she in the wonderful intimacy of his caress.

Then she placed her free hand on the right side of his face and pulled him even closer, she returned his kiss hungrily, she longed for him like she had never longed for anything.

For several long moments, they kissed each other. She felt him break the kiss, because he needed to breathe, but she held him in place for one more instant, for one more touch and caress of his tongue, before she reluctantly released him.

T'Pol felt the loss powerfully, her mind was numb from the impact. She had never been kissed before! She had had no idea!

--------

As their eyes met, they both realized their consciousnesses had returned to their bodies, their focus had returned to the real world. Their gasping mouths were only centimeters afar from another, their bodies were flushed with heat, sweat glinted in both of their faces, and their breaths were erratic and shallow. They kept their gaze looked onto each other, they felt like magnets of opposite polarity, they were powerfully drawn together. Their skins throbbed with desire to close the distance, they felt incomplete separated like this!

So they both looked at the only point where their bodies touched. They turned their heads in unison towards their hands. Their hands clasped to each other with so much force, their fingers had left marks on the other's back of the hand. Their fingers were white from the pressure. But it didn't hurt, because everything was overshadowed by the excruciating pain they felt on their palms. The intense pain shocked them out of their minds, they immediately let go of each other and struggled to control themselves.

Trip groaned in pain and clasped his right wrist with his other hand in a futile attempt to stop it from shaking. He barely noticed how T'Pol got to her feet and fetched another small tank from her desk. Once she had it, she just fell onto her knees next to him, she could barely walk herself. With shaking fingers she peeled the cap off the tank to reveal a white powder. She briefly placed her left palm on the powder and rubbed her hand slightly left and right in it. Then she withdrew her hand and offered the tank to Trip.

The powder felt soothing on his burning palm, it felt good. But when he withdrew his hand from the tank and looked at his palm, the pain returned instantly. His hand was covered with deep wounds, the venom had burned the lines of the calligraphies several millimeters deep into his flesh, and now the burns began to bleed.

--------

Trip lay alone in his bed and looked at the wounds on his hand. It would be some time before he would be able to forget the expression Phlox had worn after T'Pol and he had rushed into Sickbay. He had chided them like children. And they hadn't dared to disagree, they had just stood there with their throbbing hands, and had listened to the tirade. Even T'Pol had kept her mouth shut.

He chuckled as he remembered her face in that moment.

The calligraphy was clearly visible now. The lines were burnt deeply into his flesh, but still they were graceful. The image of the rendering was amazingly clear, they had not smeared the liquid after they had touched. They must have kept their hands perfectly still the entire time. Over half an hour, according to T'Pol. She had said it was _exceptional_. She had insisted, it had been her fault, she should have aborted the ritual earlier. He loved her when she was protective.

He marveled at the rendering in his hand. The two images fit each other perfectly. It was no longer possible to distinguish, which part of it were originally his and which was hers. The geometric figures had connected, all the isolated lines and curves had been connected to form a new whole. The new shape appeared even more three-dimensional than before. It reached out from his hand towards him. He felt drawn into the image when he looked at it. He knew he would wear this mark for the rest of his life. Even if it were possible to remove the scars, he wouldn't let Phlox do it. He would keep this calligraphy in his hand. He would never forget this moment with T'Pol.

In this moment, T'Pol wore the same rendering in her hand, her wounds were the mirror image of his own.

And he longed for her.

TO BE CONTINUED?


	3. Loving Minds

**Loving Minds**

**Summary:** Sequel to »Touching the Mind«.

--------

Two days later.

--------

T'Pol stood in front of the mirror and practiced the movement for the 37th time. She wondered, how often a human female needed to try it before she had mastered the maneuver? It sure was more difficult than it had appeared.

Once more she straightened her robe, wrapped the silken ribbon around her waist carefully, and tied the ends off in a loose knot. She had practiced the knot earlier. Tying a knot that would slip open was simple enough, the problem was to pull it open without him noticing it. It had to appear, as if it had come open on its own.

Perhaps she could conceal the movement if she turned her shoulders a bit while she did it?

T'Pol analyzed the situation: Charles would most likely be standing over there … so if she stood here … and then turned like this … Yes, that would work. But what were the risks? Where else could he be? How would it affect her plan if he had sat down already?

This was much more difficult than it had appeared.

Exhausted from her efforts, she sat down on the bed and drifted in thoughts. She looked at her left hand, at the calligraphy burnt into her skin. Now that the wounds had healed to a certain degree, the image was even more beautiful than before. She could not believe how exactly the two renderings had fit together. She randomly picked two edges from the shape in her hand and calculated the distances and angles. Had their palms been pressed together with one hand rotated by 2.31 degree to either side, it would have been impossible for the edges to connect. She picked a third edge and corrected her calculations to account for it as well. The margin of error was now below 0.82 degrees. She picked a fourth edge: Now any deviation above 0.12 degree had ruined the symmetry. There were 84 edges in the calligraphy. They all connected. It was flat-out impossible.

T'Pol shook her head in disbelieve. What was the significance of that? What did it mean?

But she had no time for idle thought, she needed to practice! So she resumed her position, and with an inconspicuous movement pulled the knot open while turning her shoulders a bit away form the spot where Charles would stand. This time it worked perfectly.

She stood still and observed how the robe would fall open once the knot was loosened. She experimented. Perhaps, she should lean a bit to the right? She didn't want the robe to really open, it had to fall open just slightly. Just enough to expose a glimpse of her underwear.

She had studied human literature thoroughly, especially the literature concerned with romantic affairs, and she had concluded that the singular most important thing in a flourishing romantic relationship was the underwear. She had read many articles on the subject. There were even special publications, just for women, which explained in great detail what was important.

Unfortunately, most of the advice was conflicting. It appeared, the perfect undergarment was innocent, unostentatious, elegant, provocative, sexy, and a bit sluttish. Fortunately, the ship's database carried vast amounts of picture material; just from reading the articles, she would have had no idea what these humans talked about. To her, whole matter could be summarized in one word: Illogical. If there was a purpose behind the concept of a _garter belt_, it was beyond her grasp.

Nonetheless, it was important that she respected her mate's customs.

T'Pol eyebrows flew up in shock when she realized, what she had just thought.

--------

Trip sat in his quarters and tried to find a flaw in the symmetry of the calligraphy on his hand. He searched for an angle that was too steep. For a line that was too short. There had to be something irregular about it, hadn't there? But there was nothing. The renderings of their names had fit together as if they were made for each other. It was impossible.

He had asked T'Pol three times, but she had sworn the calligraphies were not intentionally designed to match this way. She had called it a coincidence. He was tempted to use another word: Fate.

Did he believe in fate? He didn't know what to believe.

In a way, it didn't even matter. The point was that he and T'Pol wore matching brandings in their palms! And that had _not_ happened by coincidence.

Ever since that night, he was drawn to T'Pol. When he was without her, a significant part of him did nothing but miss her. And when she entered the room, an even greater part of his focus was dedicated to following each and every of her movements. He could hardly tear his attention away from her.

And who would blame him? He had never known intimacy before his mind had touched T'Pol's. He had seen her. For half an hour, their minds had been one. For half an hour, there had been no boundaries between them, there had been no lies between them, and there had been an unfathomable warmth and care between them.

Trip stood up and began to pace in the room. He spoke to himself. This was always a bad sign.

»Calm down, Tucker! Relax.«

He didn't listen. It was impossible to relax. How was he supposed to relax, when he was without T'Pol?

»RELAX, god-dammit!«

There had to be something worth doing that did not involve T'Pol. Hadn't there? But what?

»Why the hell do I talk to myself?«

--------

T'Pol had had no idea how _complex_ engaging in a sexual relationship was for humans. Frankly, she was baffled the species had even managed to survive with such an illogical behavior for reproduction. When a Vulcan male was in blood fever, he couldn't care less what kind of underwear his mate wore! And why should anyone? It didn't make any sense.

She breathed deeply and slowly to calm her thoughts. She needed order and logic, if she were to engage in sexual intercourse with Commander Tucker successfully. This matter was too delicate to allow for accidents to happen!

The truth had been branded into her hand, she wore the evidence in her left palm: They belonged together. She _wanted_ to be intimate with him. She was incomplete when they were separated. It had been wonderful to feel the intimacy …

Should she indulge the memory of the kiss one more time?

»_No._« she decided. It was a waste of time. It would be much more logical to work on increasing the chances of being kissed again. She had become far too undisciplined already. She would draw the line here!

She would compose herself and focus. Right after this one last time …

--------

He looked at the calligraphy on his hand and wished everything would be as clear as the rendering of their names. It was perfectly obvious: They belonged together.

He had the truth branded into his palm, for crying out loud!

»Alright, Tucker. Focus!«

He decided to approach the problem logically. The facts were: He was attracted to her. Very attracted. Well, madly in love would probably describe it best. What else? He knew she felt similarly for him, but he could not be certain what her emotions meant. Were she a human woman, everything would be perfectly clear. But she was not. If he wanted to make sure that their relationship would last, he needed to understand her better.

»Wait! What did I just think?«

--------

T'Pol was furious because of her weakness. She had no idea how long she had daydreamed, but the simple fact that she had no idea told her it had been long.

She was a mess in this state! She needed something to happen soon. Now that she had discovered these emotions for Charles, she needed to share them, they were too much for her! She needed intimacy!

Why of all things had this to be so difficult?

She _knew_ he was attracted to her. She _knew_ he was aroused by her presence. So where was the problem? She was far stronger than he was, there was a perfectly obvious and logical solution how to engage in sexual intercourse. She was certain he would not resist long.

But no! According to highly specialized literature, it wouldn't work that way, because crucial for the success of the procedure was his erection. And if human males felt pressured, they wouldn't get one, and then all efforts had been for naught.

It was really unbelievable this species had survived.

Apparently, there was more to the whole concept than just the act of copulation. And apparently, the situation was so complex that humans didn't fully understand it themselves. So how was she supposed to know what to do?

T'Pol was seriously annoyed.

According to the studies conducted by the magazines, human males would grant emotional intimacy in return for sexual intimacy. After they had intercourse, they would care for the female's emotions. Whereas without sexual intercourse, they only cared about sexual intercourse.

It didn't make any sense at all.

It didn't even match the facts! Even though Charles _was_ sexually aroused by her, he had never acted on it. But he clearly cared for her emotionally nonetheless. On the other hand, he had chosen several other females for sexual intimacy, but those encounters hadn't carried an emotional attachment!

It just didn't make ANY SENSE.

The point was, she needed his presence. And she needed to stop worrying about his presence. She needed be sure she could rely on it. She needed to solidify their relationship. It had to be permanent. And the key to it all was sexual intimacy!

In one swift, graceful motion, she reached for an item on her desk, and on the way, her fingers pulled the knot open inconspicuously.

--------

He would not screw this up. He would not let this woman slip through his fingers. He would certainly not repeat any of the stupid mistakes he had made in the past! T'Pol was far too valuable to him to do anything foolish.

The future of their relationship was nothing he could decide on his own, it was a decision they could only make together. So instead of speaking to himself, he should speak to her.

It was only logical.

--------

T'Pol knew it was Charles the moment she heard the door chime. She forced her thoughts into order, walked over to the door, opened it, and greeted him.

»Good evening, …«

How should she address him? This could NOT be happening — how should she address him? _Commander_ sounded counter-productively formal, but by calling him _Charles_ out loud, she might pressure him! This was a nightmare.

»Are you all right, T'Pol?«

Good. He called her _T'Pol_. It was settled then.

»I am fine, Charles. I was just in thoughts. Please, come in.«

The moment he crossed her doorstep, T'Pol felt soothed. And when the doors had closed, when they were alone in her room, she knew all would be good. It was ridiculous how she had wasted her time. She would simply speak with him. There was absolutely no need to be concerned.

She fetched two cushions and laid them down on the floor for them to sit. Should she lighten the candles? Would that pressure him?

»Do you mind if I lighten the candles, Charles?«

He laughed in response: »Why should I mind?«

Right. Why should he? T'Pol realized, it had been a mistake to read those magazines.

--------

When T'Pol had finally stopped fidgeting and had sat down opposite of him, Trip was concerned. Something was wrong.

»What's the matter, T'Pol? You seem to be preoccupied.«

»I am confused.«

»About what?«

»I have been reading about your species' habits and customs. I thought, you would appreciate it, if I knew more about your heritage. But none of it makes any sense.«

»What have been reading about?«

»About interpersonal relationships.«

»Right.« Oh Boy. »I guess, this subject can be confusing.«

»It is completely illogical, Charles! Most magazines contradict themselves several times within the same article.«

»T'Pol, I hope don't mean the magazines some of the other women on board read?«

»_Elle_, _Cosmopolitan_, _En Vogue_—«

»Oh shit! T'Pol, I hope you didn't believe a word of that!«

»I neither believe nor disbelieve it, Charles. It doesn't make any sense.«

»You are right. It doesn't. These magazines are meant for entertainment, T'Pol. They do not contain accurate information.«

»They do not?«

»No.«

»That is not what the text indicates.«

»They simply make stuff up, and then they use vague phrases to claim it would be fact — phrases like _recently conducted scientific studies have shown_, or _a well-accepted truth among specialists is_, and so on. They write it so that it sounds true, but it's all just crap.«

»The advice they publish is not based on facts?«

»No.«

»Human males do not generally appreciate females in their undergarments?«

»Well …«

»Then why are there so many pictures about it the ship's database?«

»Well … the thing about underwear might be one of the rare truths they publish.«

»This doesn't make any sense at all, Charles.«

»Look, I know this must be difficult to accept, but there is no way to understand how relationships work. There are so many different factors, it is impossible to consider them all.«

»It begins with the term _relationship_, Charles. What exactly is it? How does a sexual relationship differ emotionally from a platonic one? How do these kind of relationships relate to marriage? Can friends have sexual intercourse? Can marriage exist without sexual intercourse? And why is none of it a real commitment? Why do engaged couples break up after years of living together? Where is the difference between sexual intimacy and emotional intimacy? And how do all these concepts relate to love?«

»T'Pol, don't be upset—«

»But it does upset me, Charles. I have read hundreds of articles, and I don't understand anything of it.«

»That should not upset you. Trust me, nobody understands any of it. Not a single one of the questions you have asked does have a logical answer.«

»How should that _not_ upset me?«

»Just forget it all, T'Pol. You are not worried about inter-human relationships, you are worried about a particular Human-Vulcan relationship. None of the things you have read applies to us.«

»I am not worried.«

»Of course not.«

»FINE! I _am_ worried. Out of the sudden, everything I try to understand is beyond the realm of logic. Nothing makes sense. How am I supposed to react in such a situation?«

»Stay calm.«

»This is easy for you to say, Charles! You have spent your whole life experiencing emotions, friendships, and romantic relationships — but I have not!«

Trip was seriously scared: T'Pol was acting irrational!

»You are scared that your emotions will make you irrational, T'Pol.«

»Yes.«

»But you said, my presence soothed you?«

»It does.«

»Then why are you upset? I am here.«

»What upsets me is the prospect of the time when you are _not_ here, Charles. These emotions are almost impossible to control, I simply NEED to share them, there is no other way. I need you to care for me, Charles!«

Trip looked at her in wonder. T'Pol had no idea, but she had just told him _I love you_. Her words moved him to tears.

»I _do_ care for you, T'Pol. And I will continue to, I promise.«

--------

T'Pol looked at him in wonder. He had spoken these simple words, and a flood of emotions had come along with them. Suddenly, she felt so different! How was this possible?

She had missed him so much!

--------

A hurricane of emotions blustered in his mind. Trip knew instinctively, that his world had been awfully close to falling apart. He was shocked, afraid, relieved, and happy at once. He had no idea how to feel. All he knew was, that he wanted to hold T'Pol in his arms. Right now!

He reached for her the same moment she reached for him, they threw themselves in each other's arms simultaneously, and they caught each other, held on to each other, and for the longest time, everything else but them ceased to exist.

--------

He hadn't even noticed his tears until they had separated and he had seen hers. He was completely overwhelmed. He had been in love before, but this felt so different. T'Pol was so different! When Natalie had spoken the words _I love you_, she had certainly meant it. But T'Pol said _I need you to care for me_, and somehow the statement was much more profound. She had said so much more by it -- and she hadn't even known what she had said!

Her utterly revealing honesty overwhelmed him. Her trust in him overwhelmed him. Her mere presence was overwhelming.

It was simply too much. He couldn't deal with this alone. He needed to share!

»I feel powerfully drawn to you, T'Pol. You may have daydreamed a few minutes, but I have spent the entire _day_ dreaming about you. I don't know anything to do when you are not there. I feel incomplete without you, T'Pol.«

»I feel like you do.«

»I cannot lose you, T'Pol! It's just not possible. I wouldn't know what to do.«

»You need me to care for you, Charles.«

»Yes.«

»I will care for you. I promise.«

--------

T'Pol was mesmerized. She could not tear her focus away from him. She longed for him, she was overflowing with affection. She needed to show it to him! She needed to express her affection, it was simply too much. She needed intimacy!

She leaned in and carefully brushed her lips over his with closed eyes.

--------

Her touch shook him to the core. He was unable to move … All he could do was to close his eyes and lose himself in her touch.

She placed soft kisses on his face. She kissed him between the eyes, then let her lips linger there while she leaned in more and drew the tip of her nose over his brow. She pressed her brow against his and remained for a moment. Her touch was hot and sensual, and her breath made his skin tickle with anticipation. Again she kissed his face, she left a trail of affection from his brow down towards the lips. She kissed his lips as if she were kissing a thousand-year-old porcelain artefact, he could barely feel her lips so gentle was she.

Only after several moments did he realize that she was gone. He searched for her and finally opened his eyes to find her watching him. They knelt in front of each other only centimeters away. The ribbon holding her robe together had come open, and the sight caught his attention immediately. He could not believe his eyes. He shot T'Pol a look, as if to confirm that he was not dreaming, but she simply slid towards him and pressed herself against him. She embraced him, kissed his face one more time, and then she leaned back on her elbows and arched her back, all the while looking at him with longing in her eyes.

He carefully reached for her stomach, moved his fingers under the sides of the robe, and pulled them aside slowly. He felt, as if he was pulling open a curtain to reveal a masterpiece of art behind it. But no _Mona Lisa_ had ever looked as beautiful as T'Pol did. He blinked several times, but the sight did not go away. T'Pol wore a lacy white bra, matching white panties, and white stockings, which were attached to a white garter belt. The image blew his mind away.

Thoroughly confused he reached for her stomach again. He slowly drew the back of his fingertips over her stomach upwards to her chest. Then he touched both of her hips with his fingertips and slid his hands upwards on the sides of her body. He felt her overwhelming warmth, he marveled at how soft she was, how wonderful it felt to touch her.

He watched her chest heave and fall when she breathed. He followed the arteries on her neck when she turned her head, he looked at the subtle play of her muscles when she moved. He touched her long, slender thighs, he was mesmerized by the way the bands connecting her stockings to the garter belt flexed and contracted when she moved her hips. He had no words to describe how beautiful she was.

T'Pol's mouth met his halfway when he leaned in to kiss her, and every touch of their tongues inflamed his body with lust and desire.

--------

T'Pol felt his lust and marveled at the powerful emotion, she was inflamed by his desire, she was drawn to him. She longed for intimacy, she longed for his touch. When he broke the kiss and fell back on his knees, she gasped at the sudden sense of loss.

But she could smell his arousal, she could see the feverish expression of his eyes. He longed for her as well! She knew he would not reject her.

She noticed that he was studying her body again. His hand reached for her right breast and his fingers gently caressed her through the material of the cloth. His touch was electrifying.

All she wanted was to be close to him.

»You are gorgeous, T'Pol.«

»I am pleased you appreciate the garments, Charles. I was uncertain which style to choose.«

»I couldn't imagine anything more sexy than what you are wearing, T'Pol. You are simply beautiful.«

He leaned in to her and brought his mouth close to her right ear, before he whispered his question in a mischievous tone of voice.

»What made you choose this ensemble, T'Pol? Why did you pick white?«

»The color symbolizes virginity in your culture, Charles. I thought it was fitting.«

»You are a virgin?«

»Yes.«

T'Pol knew immediately she had done something wrong. The emotions changed, they were replaced by conflict. And now she felt conflict too! What was happening? He was supposed to be aroused by this! She could not believe that her lack of experience would constitute a problem?

She watched his hands move and realized with shock, that he pulled her robe back in place to cover her body. Then he sat back on his knees and looked at her with an expression she could not read. He felt emotions she could not understand. What had happened?

»Have I pressured you, Charles?«

»No, T'Pol. It's just …«

He didn't go on, he just looked at her. His desire was gone, all he felt was conflict. T'Pol could not believe it. He had rejected her!

--------

How could he possibly explain this to her?

»Listen, T'Pol. You don't have to do this.«

»Of course I don't _have to_, Charles. But I want to! And I cannot understand why you refuse to acknowledge this aspect of our relationship! It doesn't make any sense, Charles. I can _smell_ your arousal.«

»Don't get me wrong, T'Pol, I want to have sex. But I am not convinced it is what you really want.«

»Why else would I wear these illogical garments, Charles?«

»Because you believe this is what I expect from you. But it is not.«

»Obviously not.«

»You misunderstand, T'Pol. It would be wrong. You are overwhelmed with emotions. This is the _first time_ you ever experience anything like this. You are confused. You said it yourself.«

»I _am_ confused, Charles. You promised to care for me, and a second later you reject me when I need you? How is this possible?«

»The reason why I don't want to sleep with you right now is because I _do_ care for you, T'Pol. This is not what you want! You don't need sex … you need intimacy.«

He could see it clearly, T'Pol did not understand it. She was irrational, she was badly hurt. And Trip was devastated by his helplessness to explain the difference to her. His world began to fall apart. He had promised to care for her, and she thought he did not. What could he possibly do?

--------

T'Pol looked at the man who had promised to care for her. She was in trance. Her consciousness had just stopped working, there was too much distress to handle. She simply couldn't do it.

She realized he had moved closer. She realized he knelt right before her and spoke to her. But she couldn't hear a word. Nothing made any sense. And right now, she was convinced it never would.

Her eyes followed the movement of his right hand. He moved in slow-motion. He reached for her hand. He took her hand, and moved and turned it around, so that their palms would rest towards each other.

It felt wrong.

It itched.

He leaned in closer and rested his brow against hers. He remained like this for an eternity. She noticed that he had his eyes pressed shut. She noticed there were tears running down his face. He looked very sad. He had to feel a lot of pain to cry like this. This was all wrong.

She felt another itch in her palm, and the irritation caused her to shift her hand just a fraction of an inch. And then their fingers interlocked with force.

She heard his voice in her mind, he yelled out for her with so much sorrow and despair that the sound of his voice alone shocked her consciousness out of its lethargy. She looked, but she couldn't believe what she saw. There he was! Right before her! What was she waiting for?? She released all the emotions she had kept bottled up because she had been afraid of them. She flooded his mind with them, she gave him her anger, her disappointment, and her angst — she gave him _everything_. She gave up all control.

Then there were no more boundaries between them. There were no more lies between them. There was no more holding back between them. They shared true intimacy.

--------

Trip awoke into a world that was all right. Even before he had opened his eyes, he already had the image of T'Pol lying in his arms in his mind. It was the first thought he had. The image didn't change when he opened his eyes. And all was right with the world.

He stroked her face with soft touches, careful not to wake her up. Then he was overcome with longing and he just had to kiss her face two, three … several dozen times. He could just not _believe_ he had woken up with this woman in his arms! She was the most beautiful, innocent, sweet, and adorable angel you could possibly find clad in lacy sexy underwear. It was mind-boggling.

He was overwhelmed by the intimacy they had shared. They had seen each other so honestly, so wholeheartedly naked, there was simply nothing that could ever scare him again. As long as T'Pol cared for him, he needed nothing else. As long as T'Pol cared for him, he was invincible! And to prove his point, he raised his left fist into the air in one swift motion, he shook his fist threateningly at anyone who might doubt his words, and then he declared it for all the world to hear, he whispered the words softly into the room, careful not to disturb T'Pol.

»I am invincible!«

He longed to let out an evil laugh. But that would be too loud. Better not.

So he kissed her face another dozen times instead. It was just as well. He pulled her closer, kissed her face one last time, and then he rested his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. He fell asleep smiling. There was something to be said for holding hands with the woman you love.

--------

»Charles, you will have to let go of my hand. I need to dress.«

»Why is this necessary, T'Pol? You look wonderful.«

»I doubt the Captain would approve, if I showed up for duty in these garments.«

»We could resign our commissions, T'Pol. They could drop us off at some remote, isolated planet with deserts and beaches. Just the two of us.«

»What would we do the whole time, Charles? How would we live? I don't think that's a good idea.«

»I know something that could keep us occupied for the first two, or three years.«

He tightened his arms around her, pulled her closer to him, and kissed her passionately. Then he looked at her with a suggestively raised eyebrow.

T'Pol's tiny nostrils flared as she took in his scent. Then she shook her head _no_ vigorously.

»You are confused, Charles.«

»I am not confused at all.«

»You are emotionally overwhelmed, Charles. It would be wrong.«

»You are right, T'Pol, I am overwhelmed with desire for you.«

»Clearly these garments are to blame, Charles. I should never have worn them. I apologize.«

»No! You misunder—«

»I had no idea how much they affect your control. This was very irresponsible of me. I promise never do to that again, Charles.«

»T'Pol! Why are you tormenting me on a morning like this? You are mean.«

»I do it because I care for you, Charles.«

»There is no threat for my control, T'Pol. Trust me. The underwear is no problem. There is no need to blame it.«

»This kind of underwear does not threaten your control?«

»No.«

»You are right! I must have misjudged …«

»Right.«

»This is good news, Charles. I wanted to wear the garments more often anyway. I grew fond of them. But I thought, it would disturb you if you saw me in my underwear while we're alone all the time.«

Trip beamed at her with happiness.

»This is going to be no problem at all, T'Pol.«

»Wonderful. I mean, since we have decided not to be sexually intimate, I had assumed this would be taxing for you. But if it is not …«

»What are you talking about?«

»Consider the symbolism, Charles! I will wear provocative undergarments to show my appreciation for you, and you will control your urges to show your appreciation for me. This is beautiful.«

»_Fine_, T'Pol! I surrender. What do you want?«

»Let go of my hand so that I can dress.«

»I am not holding you.«

»Your fingers apply considerable pressure to the back of my hand, Charles.«

»So do yours to mine.«

»This is beside the point, Charles. You _are_ holding me.«

»I will let go if you let go first.«

»I could order you.«

»You are out of uniform.«

»Why should _I_ let go first?«

»There is no alternative, T'Pol. Because I won't.«

»We could both let go at the same time.«

»Okay. We will do it on three. One … Two …«

»Charles! I can read your thoughts. It is pointless to try and cheat.«

»I was just checking whether you pay attention.«

»I do.«

»Good. On three then.«

»I will count. One … Two … Three!«

»Nice try, T'Pol.«

--------

»Listen, T'Pol. Before we go out there, we should agree on what we tell the others.«

»About what?«

»About us.«

»The truth.«

»And what would that be?«

»When someone asks you, Charles, you simply tell him that you have chosen me as your companion, that you desire me, that you don't know how to go on without me, and that you wear my name burnt into your palm with my blood.«

»This is what I should say?«

»It is the truth.«

»Right. And I suppose you are going to answer the same thing?«

»I would say: I care for Commander Tucker.«

»That is a lot shorter.«

»It is the truth.«

»You wouldn't say anything about how you wouldn't know how to go on without me?«

»Be serious, Charles. You know how disciplined I am. I would find a way.«

»Perhaps you are right.«

»What are you talking about?«

»I have become far too dependent on you, T'Pol. I will need time to think about my emotions. I need space.«

»Space?«

»We shouldn't see each other for a couple of days. I really need some time for myself.«

»FINE! What do you want?«

»We both are going to say the same thing, T'Pol. Word for word.«

»We could tell them, we are together.«

»That sounds wonderful, T'Pol.«

»It is settled then. And now, Charles, on three. One … Two …«

TO BE CONTINUED


	4. Revealed Minds

**Revealed Minds**

**Summary:** Sequel to »Loving Minds«.

--------

The same morning.

--------

If there was a single word to describe how Trip felt, it was confused. He had no idea how he felt. One half of him felt fantastic, because he was together with T'Pol. But the other half of him felt horrible, because he wasn't together with T'Pol right now. He missed her. Badly.

He looked at the reactor schematics. For the fifth time he tried to figure out the possible cause of an energy spike in the sensor readings, but he couldn't concentrate. Every time he looked at the schematics, the thought popped into his mind that T'Pol could probably help him with the problem. Then he wondered whether he should call her. Then he wondered whether the reason he wanted to call her was really the reactor schematics, or whether maybe he was just trying to find a pretense to see her. He looked at the time. An hour had passed since they had parted. An hour! This couldn't be real, he was a nervous wrack already after not seeing her for only an hour! This wasn't good. He had to relax. He had to focus. He wondered whether T'Pol felt the same way.

Should he go see her?

And then what?

He would probably just disturb her in whatever she was doing.

»Focus an the bloody schematics, Tucker!« he said to himself, and for the sixth time he tried to force his attention to the computer screen.

»Let's see … the sensors read the spike in this junction … which is connected to …«

He blinked.

»Which is connected to …«

It was hopeless. He needed pie.

--------

»Captain, seriously, you have to do something. It is essential we find out what is going on between Trip and T'Pol. Pretty much all of the crew has stopped working ever since the bandages came off. It is _impossible_ to escape the gossip. If we want to succeed on this mission, it is imperative that we calm everybody down.«

»I agree, Malcolm. But what makes you think I could do anything?«

»You could ask T'Pol, for instance.«

»You want me to ask Subcommander T'Pol whether she has an affair with Trip?«

»Why not?«

»Why not? Why don't you ask her?«

»No way! She is my superior officer.«

»I am not going to risk my neck so that you can find out what these tattoos are about, Lieutenant.«

»I am certain the Subcommander wouldn't harm you.«

»You could ask her, Lieutenant.«

»I am not so certain she wouldn't harm _me_, Captain.«

»You are the Tactical Officer, Malcolm. You can defend yourself.«

»You could order Mayor Hayes to ask her. He has extensive martial arts training.«

»You just want to get rid of him.«

--------

»Hoshi, we have to do something. Half the crew is going insane and the senior officers won't help because they're afraid of T'Pol.«

»What could we do, Travis?«

»You could ask her.«

»Me?«

»Of course. You're a woman, she is woman … it's only natural you would talk about these things.«

»I hardly know her.«

»Come on, Hoshi. Somebody has to do something.«

»Why don't you ask Trip?«

»I have asked Trip, Malcolm has asked Trip, the Captain has asked Trip, but he won't say anything.«

»I could ask Trip.«

»Forget it, Hoshi. He just rambles on about a _curious accident_, and that's the end of the story.«

»Why don't _you_ ask T'Pol?«

»Me?«

»Why not?«

»Are you nuts? Ask her yourself.«

»I would. But I am not curious. It's not in my nature.«

»Right.«

»Perhaps the Captain could ask her?«

»Let's talk to him.«

--------

»No. No! I won't do it, Ensigns. Ask her yourself! This is a private matter between them and I have neither the authority nor the courage to interfere.«

»But Captain—«

»No!«

--------

Lieutenant Reed was determined not to give up. He found Trip in the Mess Hall.

»Commander, do you mind if I join you?«

»Of course not, Malcolm.«

Reed sat down at Trip's table and studied the Commander's breakfast selection for a moment.

»Healthy diet.«

»Yeah.« Trip chuckled inwardly. »I don't know … I've grown a bit of a sweet tooth recently. Every time I enter the Mess Hall, I think of pie.«

»Be careful with that stuff, Trip. You'll gain weight faster than you can say _sugar_.«

»Come on, a pound or two wouldn't hurt, would it?«

»I don't think Subcommander T'Pol would approve.«

For a second, Trip look worried. But then he caught himself.

»Why would she care?«

»The crew's fitness is her responsibility.«

»Right.«

»I notice your hand heals well?«

»It does.«

»Must have been quite an accident in Engineering.«

»It wasn't that bad, really. Just burnt my hand.«

»It's an interesting coincidence how the wounds seem to form such an intricate pattern on your palm, Trip.«

»Amazing, isn't it?«

»I understand Subcommander T'Pol hurt her hand in the same accident?«

»Unfortunately.«

»How exactly did that happen?«

»Well, you know how these things go.«

»Actually, I don't.«

»I appreciate your concern, Malcolm. Don't worry, the wounds aren't bad. It doesn't even hurt.«

»You really are determined not to talk about it?«

»About what?«

»Forget it.«

--------

It had taken quite a while before Travis had managed to call the crowd into order. Those of the crew who had no urgent duties to fulfill had assembled in the cargo bay to hold an emergency meeting. Something had to be done.

»Alright, Ladies and Gentlemen, the rules are as follows. One of those straws has been cut shorter than the others. Whoever draws the short straw is going to ask Subcommander T'Pol about the tattoos. Okay? … Rostov, you have a question?«

»I just wondered whether it wouldn't be more logical if those crew members talked to the Subcommander who knew her best? Like, the bridge crew for instance? Why do we have to risk our lives?«

»This approach is wrong on so many levels, Rostov. If we want to succeed, we will have to operate as a team. And that includes that everyone is willing to make sacrifices so that the whole team can succeed. Right? Crewman Burnham, you have a question?«

»I would really love to help, Travis, but I have a wife and two children. It would be irresponsible for me to take such a risk over a matter like this. Perhaps it would be best if someone of the more qualified bridge crew could—«

»Seriously, people. Do you want to find out what is going on or not?«

--------

T'Pol was confused. It had been less than two hours since she and Charles had parted, but already it was impossible to control the longing for his presence. She missed him, and it felt horrible. But at the same time she was content and overflowing with energy. How was this possible? For all her life she had analyzed and controlled her emotions. Understanding her emotional reactions was the key to suppressing them. It was essential that she understood what she felt and why, or she would find no peace.

The ship had been strangely empty the whole morning. Everybody seemed to have something useful to do, only she sat in the science lab and drifted in thoughts. She wondered whether Charles felt the same way.

Should she go and see him?

No, she would only interrupt him in whatever he was doing. It was no good.

»Subcommander?«

T'Pol hadn't even noticed that Ensign Kelly had entered the room. For a moment she looked at the human woman with a surprised expression, but she quickly recovered.

»Ensign Kelly. Can I help you?«

»I just wanted to bring you the sensor data you asked for.«

»Very well. Thank you, Ensign.«

The Ensign handed her the PADD she had brought and turned to leave.

»Ensign?«

»Yes, Subcommander?«

»Can I ask you for advice in a private matter?«

Now it was the human woman's turn to look surprised.

»Of course, Subcommander. What can I do for you?«

»It is difficult to explain, Ensign. Have you ever been in love before?«

»I beg your pardon?«

»I don't mean to pry, Ensign. I just wondered whether you could explain to me what it feels like.«

»How love feels like?«

»Yes.«

»I am sorry, Subcommander, but that is impossible to explain. Being in love feels like a million things at once. One moment your are the happiest person in the world, the next second you are overcome with longing, then you feel desperate, afraid, happy again, you laugh, you cry … I really can't describe it.«

»It must be very confusing to be in love.«

»It is. But it is wonderful.«

»How can you focus when you are in love, Ensign?«

»Focus?«

»Yes, how do you manage to concentrate on your duties under such difficult circumstances?«

»I don't think the term _difficult circumstances_ is appropriate to describe that feeling, Subcommander. Of course the emotions are very strong, and at first it is distracting, so to speak. The first couple of days you are pretty much useless when you have fallen in love.«

»A couple of _days_?«

»Sure. When I met my first boyfriend, I thought of nothing else but him for a week, at least.«

»A _week_?«

»Like I said, it's impossible to explain. And it's different every time you fall in love. I don't think a single emotion of _love_ even exists, it probably feels different for everyone.«

»If you can't really describe what love feels like, and if it feels differently for everyone, how can you even know you are in love, Ensign?«

»That's no problem at all. When you are in love, you _know_ it. Definitely.«

T'Pol pondered this information for a moment. If all this was true, then being in love was a disaster! If it could not be understood, it could not be controlled. The thought was alarming.

»Are you all right, Subcommander?«

»I am still trying to determine that, Ensign.«

»You try to determine whether you are in love?«

»No, Ensign. I already know that. What I try to determine is how to handle it.«

»You are in love? With Commander Tucker? That is wonderful, Subcommander!«

»It is. But at the same time it is very confusing.«

»I bet it is! I am speechless, Subcommander, I would never have thought this was possible. I would have never thought Vulcans would experience love.«

»Neither did I.«

»But then what are you worried about? You should be the happiest person on the ship right now!«

»That is exactly my problem. I _am_ happy, and the emotion escapes all my attempts to control it.«

»I wish I had your problems, Subcommander.«

»You may find this difficult to understand, but I am not supposed to be happy — or unhappy. I am supposed to be in control of my emotions, not the other way round. And I find it very unsettling that I seem to be unable to regain my control.«

»Why don't you just forget what you are supposed to do and simply enjoy those emotions? You may not realize it, but half the women on this ship would kill to feel what you feel at the moment.«

»The emotions my species experiences are far more intense and volatile than human emotions, Ensign. To give up control would be irresponsible. It would make me irrational, and it would most likely be dangerous.«

»Loving Trip would be dangerous?«

»Letting my emotions determine my actions would be dangerous.«

»How do you know?«

»Historical evidence suggests so. Before we learned to control our emotions, Vulcans had almost extinguished themselves. Before Surak discovered the path of logic, there had not been a single day of peace on Vulcan for centuries.«

»Subcommander, with all due respect to your species' history, you cannot seriously believe that allowing yourself to love Commander Tucker will lead to war and extinction? You sound like you are afraid of your emotions. Perhaps that's the problem?«

»What do you mean?«

»What I mean is that love is probably the single most wonderful emotion _my_ species knows. It would never occur to me to think of it as something dangerous. The only danger I associate with love is the danger of losing it.«

»I am not certain I understand …«

»I believe it would be much more dangerous to suppress these emotions, or to ignore them, than to give in to them. If you want my advice, I say you should trust these emotions. Simply do what you feel like doing. That's how humans do it, and our species has survived so far.«

»Barely.«

»That's right. But without being able to love, we would definitely _not_ have survived. It wouldn't even have been worth surviving, you ask me.«

»You advice me to trust my emotions?«

»You said your happiness escapes your control anyway. Just stop worrying about it and be happy. The emotions will change over time. Maybe they go away altogether? Sometimes that happens. If I were you, I would try to experience it as much as possible, because you never know whether you'll ever get the chance again.«

»I had not seen it from this perspective, Ensign. Thank you for your advice.«

»You're welcome.«

Ensign Kelly left the science lab with the strange feeling that she had been dreaming. She was certain: If she ever told anyone about _this_ discussion with Vulcan Science Officer T'Pol, they would put her into a cell with padded walls. Weird things were happening on this ship ever since they had entered the Expanse, so much was for sure.

--------

»People, if we continue to argue about minutiae, we won't get anywhere. Let's _focus_, shall we? If you don't want to draw straws, what do you want to do?«

Travis immediately recognized his mistake. Never offer alternatives to choose from if you want a mob to agree on anything. Only ask questions that could be answered with yes or no. But it was too late. The assembled crowd already broke into heated discussion again. If something didn't happen soon, they would have a mutiny at their hands.

--------

This day was really weird. If Trip hadn't known it any better, he would have assumed the Captain had given everyone shore leave but had forgotten to tell him. Where was the crew? And why had Ensign Kelly grinned at him like a maniac when he had met her in the corridor? What was going on here?

He had checked the Bridge, he had been in Sickbay, he had been in the Mess Hall, and he had looked in the Shuttle Bay. Cargo Bay was the last place to check, and if he wouldn't find his people there either, then he would call a tactical alert.

--------

»You wanted to see me, Captain?«

»Yes, Subcommander. We have received a subspace message from the Vulcan ship TALAR, from Captain Serat, to be specific. Apparent—«

»Serat?«

»Yes. You know him?«

»I know a Vulcan named Serat, Captain, but I cannot know whether it's the same person.«

»It is. The message said he was an old friend of yours, and that he wanted to meet with us to see you. He asked whether we would be willing to alter course so that he can catch up with us. Apparently his ship is significantly smaller than ENTERPRISE and not as fast.«

»If this is the Serat I know, Captain, it is most likely a privately owned vessel, a ship which one person can fly. I doubt it can exceed Warp 3. What did you answer? Have you agreed to meet him?«

»I thought, I should ask you who he was first.«

»Our parents were neighbors when we were children, Captain. We have spent almost our entire childhood together.«

»Any idea what he is doing in a small vessel like this in the Expanse?«

»He is an explorer.«

»An explorer?«

»Yes.«

»I thought Vulcans didn't indulge their curiosity?«

»Serat does. It might be a good idea to meet him, Captain. Perhaps he has gathered useful information about the Expanse that could help us.«

»I don't know. I have a strange feeling. This is too incredible a coincidence for my taste. To me, it sounds as if the Vulcan High-Command had sent him to gather useful information about _us_ instead.«

»Certainly not.«

»You are sure?«

»Absolutely.«

»May I ask why?«

»Serat doesn't appreciate the decisions of the High Command any more than you do, Captain. I very much doubt his reason to be here is espionage.«

»So this is just a coincidence?«

»There is only one way to find out.«

»Okay. If you say he is harmless, then let's meet him. Would you like to contact him?«

»Yes, Captain.«

»Good. Then take care of the matter and keep me informed, Subcommander. I have to admit, I am pretty curious myself.«

»Aye, Captain.«

She turned to leave, but before she could go, the Captain addressed her once more.

»T'Pol?«

»Yes?«

»Since we were speaking of curiosity … I can't help but notice that the _accident_ you and Trip had left some very interesting markings on the palms of the two of you. Identical markings, it appears. That's quite a coincidence.«

»No, Captain. The markings are meant to be identical. They are an artistic rendering of both of our names.«

»So it was no accident after all?«

»Commander Tucker and I have performed a Vulcan ritual — a friendship ritual. Neither of us did, however, anticipate that the result of the ritual would be so prominently visible. So in a way, it was an accident.«

»But in another way, it was not.«

»Correct. We performed the ritual voluntarily, so the term _accident_ is probably inappropriate.«

»I see. Well … You better contact the Vulcan ship, T'Pol. I guess Serat is waiting to hear from us.«

»Yes, Captain.«

--------

When Trip entered the Cargo Bay, he was stunned by the sight. At least two dozen crewmen argued loudly while Travis Mayweather stood on a crate and waved his hands in the air in a futile attempt to calm everybody down.

Trip raised his voice to make sure they would even hear him: »Would you guys care to explain what you are doing down here?«

And suddenly there was an eerie silence. Everybody looked at some random corner, or a spot on the floor, or at somebody else. Anywhere but at Trip.

»Travis, what is going on? I have been looking for my engineers for the last 15 minutes!«

»Nothing, Commander. We were just … uh, discussing something.«

»Perhaps I can help speed things up?«

And suddenly they _all_ looked at him.

»As a matter of fact you can, Commander.«

Travis considered his options. It was a risk, but the alternative was a mutiny. Someone had to do something _now_. And it appeared, that someone was him.

»Commander, I think I speak in the name of everyone of us when I say that … My point is … We want to know why you are wearing a tattoo out of the sudden! Half the ship is in unrest because of it. Not telling anyone is _mean_. You are our friend, Trip, we have a right to know!«

Trip was dumbfounded. He looked at the assembled crowd and found them nodding in affirmation. They looked at him accusingly.

»This is what this is all about? You want to know what the calligraphy means?«

»Yes, Commander.«

»Alright. I will tell you.«

Nobody said a word. They all just looked at him with baited breath.

»These markings mean that I have chosen T'Pol as my companion, that I desire her, that I don't know how to go on without her. And because of that, I wear her name burnt into my palm with her blood.«

Trip counted the passing seconds in his head: »_21 … 22 … 23 … 24 … 25 … 26 … 27 …_«

After six seconds of total silence, the crewmen broke into a completely inappropriate cheer and stormed towards him to hug him, to pat him on the back, and to shake hands in congratulations.

--------

T'Pol wondered where everybody was. Half the crew seemed to have disappeared. And more importantly, Charles seemed to have disappeared as well. He wasn't in Engineering, he wasn't on the Bridge, he wasn't in the Mess Hall … Where was he?

Cargo Bay was the last place she would check, and if he wouldn't be there, she would use the ship's PA system to call for him.

She punched the button to open the doors, only to find the missing crewmen and Charles occupied in what appeared to be some kind of celebration. She waited patiently for someone to notice her, but nobody seemed to pay attention.

»Commander Tucker?« she asked, her voice louder than usual so that he would hear her over the noise.

And then they noticed her all at once. She had no idea what was going on, but clearly she had interrupted something. The room went dead silent. The crewmen appeared to avoid looking at her.

»Commander, I need to speak with you. Unless you are busy, of course?«

»Not at all, Subcommander. We were just finished here. I believe, everybody wanted to return to their stations anyway. Right?«

Several crewmen replied with a snappy »Yes, Sir!«, and then hurried past T'Pol, out of the room, in great speed. Everybody seemed to look at the floor rather than at her. After only a few moments, she and Charles were alone in the Cargo Bay.

»If I wouldn't know it any better, Commander, I would say the crewmen appeared to be afraid of me.«

»They are.«

»They are?«

»Of course.«

»Why would anyone be afraid of me?«

»Are you kidding, Subcommander? Just look at you! You are _frightening_.«

»I am?«

»Of course. You have those huge ears, which overhear each and every secret, no matter how cautiously one whispers it. And then you are strong, trained in unfathomably deadly martial arts; you know no fear, no mercy — only logic. And when someone stands in your way, you just squash him like a bug and destroy him, you intimidate him with that cold, intense stare of yours, before you break his neck without even blinking. You are incredibly dangerous, T'Pol. Why do you think I try to be nice to you all the time? Because I am afraid!«

»Is that so?«

»Of course. I would never dare to refuse your bidding. I am so scared sometimes, I would do _everything_ to please you, just so that I may live.«

»It is fortunate you have brought the topic up, Commander. As a matter of fact, I believe my control may be slipping. I am not certain how much longer I can hold my dangerously volatile emotions back.«

»Oh no, T'Pol! You must try harder. Focus! Don't give up, the risk is too great!«

»Unfortunately, it is a risk you will have to take, Charles.«

»I could flee.«

»You will never make it past me.«

»I could call for help.«

»Nobody will hear you scream.«

»Then there really is no alternative, is there?«

»No, Charles. There is not.«

And when he finally kissed her, T'Pol realized that Ensign Kelly had been right: Why would _anyone_ want to suppress these emotions?

--------

»It is out in the open, T'Pol. I have told the crew. They know we're together.«

»Captain Archer seems to know as well. He has asked me about the calligraphy.«

»What did you tell him?«

»I told him the truth about it, Charles. But he didn't ask whether we were together, so I didn't say anything.«

»Why not?«

»It appeared to be unnecessary.«

»He didn't ask?«

»No.«

»Curious.«

»I believe he expects you to tell him, Charles.«

»Why do you believe that?«

»I believe he hopes that you reassert your friendship by telling him yourself. As a sign that you have not stopped caring about him.«

»You believe that?«

»Yes.«

»You are incredible, T'Pol. Do you realize how much you have changed ever since you came aboard? That must be my good influence.«

»I have not changed.«

»Of course you have! A year ago you wouldn't have given a damn about the Captain's feelings.«

»I still don't, Charles. I am merely trying to ensure that the Commanding Officer of the ship functions at the best possible efficiency.«

»A year ago you wouldn't even have understood the need to reassert a friendship from time to time.«

»Of course I did.«

»You did not.«

»I did!«

»You did not!«

»You are acting childish, Charles.«

»No, you are acting childish, T'Pol. Why don't you admit it?«

»There is nothing to admit.«

»Would you care to touch my right palm with your left and repeat that statement?«

»You have no time for this, Charles. You should go and speak to the Captain.«

--------

Trip swallowed hard when he stood in front of the Captain's ready room. He had no idea why, but suddenly he felt like a school boy entering the principal's office. He tried to push the thought aside, rang the doorbell, and waited for the Captain to call him in. When he finally entered the room, his hands were shaking slightly.

»Captain, do you have a minute?«

»Ah, Commander Tucker. It is fortunate you came by. I was just thinking about you.«

»You did?«

»Yes.«

There was a long pause. Despite his best efforts to stand still, Trip couldn't help but shift his weight around uncomfortably. He couldn't stand the silence any longer.

»What were you thinking about?«

»I was just freshening up my knowledge of Starfleet regulations concerning fraternization between senior officers.«

Oh shit!

»Is that true?«

»Yes.«

For almost half a minute, neither man said a word.

Trip couldn't believe this was happening! He clenched his hands into tight fists to stop them from wiping the sweat from his brow. Again he was the first to break the silence.

»And what do the regulations say?«

»They say it's prohibited.«

Fuck. Fuck! _FUCK!_

»Jonathan, please listen—«

»The regulations also say it's within the Commanding Officer's discretion whether he chooses to enforce them.«

»That's good news!«

»Is it?«

»Captain, if you are kidding with me, then please stop right now. This is NOT funny!«

»On the contrary, Trip. I think it is funny as hell.«

And then they both laughed so loud that out there on the bridge Hoshi and Travis raised their eyebrows and looked at each other.

--------

»You are mean, Jonathan. I cannot believe you did that to me!«

»I cannot believe you swallowed it, Trip. Did you really expect me to quote _regulations_?«

»For a moment I did.«

»And I am grateful for that, Trip. If I only had a picture of your face …«

»This was really mean, Jonathan! At least do me the favor and pull the same prank with T'Pol.«

»Are you nuts? Do you want me to get hurt?«

»After what you did just now, you would deserve it.«

»I think I know a way how to make up, Trip. Since my two most senior officers are breaking regulations anyway, at least let me in and have a drink with me. The Scotch I kept in Shuttle Pod One seems to have disappeared … but I still have a bottle of Whisky here. Single Malt, actually.«

»You know I would never drink on duty, Captain.«

»Of course not. Neither would I.«

»But it would help cope with the shock …«

»That's right. We should see it as medication.«

»I guess that makes it okay.«

»Then don't stand around, get the glasses from the cupboard and sit down.«

--------

»Honestly, Trip, you believe _you_ were shocked? What am I supposed to say?«

»I know. If Daniels had appeared to me six months ago and had told me that T'Pol and me would get together, I would have scanned his brain for damage as an answer.«

»I would have helped you do it!«

»It's really amazing, isn't it? I mean, I remember the day she came aboard as if it were yesterday. We were sitting in your quarters having fun …«

»And she walked in and ruined it.«

They both laughed.

»She did! Do you remember how she refused to shake my hand?«

»She refused to acknowledge you even existed! I can still hear the words: _Trip. My friends call me Trip._«

»And she said: _I'll try to remember that._«

They laughed once more, while they clinked their glasses.

»So what now? Does she remember?«

»Hell no! She calls me _Charles_.«

»I hope that doesn't remind you of your mother.«

--------

»Travis, what are they doing in there? How am I supposed to concentrate on operating the comm station, if our senior officers throw a party in the next room all the while?«

»Relax, Hoshi. It's probably important ship's business.«

--------

»Judging from the markings in your palm, this time it's serious, isn't it?«

»It is. Although _serious_ is probably not the best word to describe my relationship with T'Pol …«

»Then tell me a better word, Trip.«

»Love.«

»_That_ serious?«

»Yes. And the best part is: Until three days ago I had no idea at all.«

»How is that possible, Trip? You and T'Pol have been flirting and bantering for months. You must have noticed there was more going on than just two colleagues discussing ship's business.«

»Of course I did. But what was I supposed to believe? We are talking about _T'Pol_, remember? I would never have guessed it was possible that I could fall in love with her. Until three days ago, the idea was outrageous.«

»Then what has changed?«

»You could say, I opened my eyes and looked at her for the first time.«

»How very vague.«

»It is true. It is quite literally true. I found myself sitting opposite of her and looked at her face, and suddenly I no longer saw a Vulcan. Suddenly I saw T'Pol! For all those months, I had never allowed myself to really think of her as a woman, because subconsciously I assumed nothing would ever happen anyway, right?«

»You are right. It certainly came as a surprise.«

»But there is more to it. You know of course that half the crew went ballistic because they wanted to know what the calligraphy we wear is about?«

»Believe me, I have noticed.«

»At least a dozen people have asked me about it. Malcolm even tried his best interrogation techniques on me to find out.«

»You have no idea how many people outright demanded that _I_ find out and tell them, Trip.«

»My point is: Nobody asked T'Pol. _Nobody._ Don't you think that's strange?«

»I guess, everybody assumed she wouldn't say anything anyway.«

»But that is wrong. If anything, T'Pol would be much more likely to give a straight answer than I would! She always does. She never lies. You can ask her anything, and you will always get an honest answer. But nobody ever asks her.«

»Because she is Vulcan.«

»That's right. She is an alien. She is different. And the moment I left those prejudices behind me was the moment I fell in love with her.«

»I know what you mean, Trip. We all have our share of prejudice to let go. When it comes to T'Pol, I certainly did.«

»So did I. What bothers me is that it took so long.«

»It shouldn't bother you, Trip. It took both of us a lifetime to acquire the prejudices we had about Vulcans, so letting them go simply cannot happen overnight. The important thing is that it happened.«

»Thank god it did!«

»So you are, well, officially together now. Right?«

»Right.«

»Then what is the next step? Have you thought about that already?«

»I have been wondering, yes. There is one thing I know for certain: This is it. She is the one. It took me two years to realize it, but now I know that.«

»What does T'Pol say about that?«

»I think she is still pretty confused.«

»Does she feel the same way you do? Does she even know love?«

»She does feel the same way, but for her the emotion is completely new. Consciously, she knows about love as much as you can learn by reading about it in a book.«

»That's not much.«

»No, it is not.«

»Wouldn't she perceive these emotions as a threat then?«

»I believe that to a certain degree she does. That's what confuses her.«

»I won't blame her. Being in love is confusing as hell. I can't even begin to imagine what it must feel like for a Vulcan. It's the exact opposite of what her culture stands for.«

»It is.«

»I hate to bring this up, but doesn't that scare you? What if she decides that she cannot live with these emotions and goes back to suppressing them entirely?«

»That won't happen.«

»You're sure?«

»Absolutely. She promised.«

--------

»Did you know that for a while I was attracted to T'Pol, too?«

»I had guessed it.«

»Was it obvious?«

»Not really. But I know you better, Jonathan.«

The Captain chuckled.

»Remember the night when Porthos was sick? God … I behaved like an idiot that night.«

»That was because of T'Pol?«

»Back then, I found it difficult to accept that she questioned me all the time. Or better: How she questioned me. I had no idea how to interact with a Vulcan. It created a certain tension between us.«

»And then what?«

»At first I mistook it for sexual tension. Can you believe that?«

»Of course. She is damn beautiful.«

»I have never noticed!«

»Did I say anything? Neither did I!«

They both laughed before the Captain went on.

»I got to know her better. Learned how to read her, how to interpret her. And she learned, too, of course. Then suddenly my perception had changed. She didn't question me, she advised me. She wasn't a Vulcan, she was T'Pol.«

»Not everybody has realized that yet.«

»Perhaps it is about to change?«

»What do you mean?«

»If this is _it_, Trip, then sooner or later both Vulcans and Humans must realize that we can _love_ each other. The evidence is right here. Believe it or not, but you two are part of history now.«

»Oh my god, please don't remind me!«

»I will have a field day doing exactly that.«

»At least torment T'Pol with it as well!«

»Are you nuts?«

--------

»Okay, Trip, listen. You two are a massive distraction on the ship right now. It is insane, but it is the way it is. Apparently the word is out?«

»Yes. By now, everybody knows it.«

»We are more or less holding position to rendezvous with the Vulcan ship TALAR,—«

»A Vulcan ship? Here? In the Expanse?«

»Yes, ask your girlfriend about it, Commander. She knows more than I do. My point is: You two should keep a low profile. We are holding position. For 12 hours there is nothing to do. So disappear. You are both off-duty.«

»You are serious?«

»The crew is _insane_. Give these people a few hours to cope. You do the same. Everybody wins.«

»I love following orders.«

--------

»T'Pol, I have news from the Captain for you.«

»What did he say, Charles?«

»You are relieved of duty.«

»I beg your pardon?«

»You are relieved of duty.«

»Why?«

»Because you are a distraction to the crew.«

»I am?«

»Of course. Just look at you! You are breath-takingly beautiful, and smart, and wonderful.«

»The crew finds that distracting?«

»Who wouldn't?«

»What were his exact words when gave the order, Charles?«

»He said, I am to escort you to either your or my quarters. We are to pass by the Mess Hall to get food, And then I will watch you for the next 12 hours. After that, _if_ you were nice, I am to decide whether you may resume your active duty.«

»This were his exact words?«

»Perhaps not literally.«

»What are we supposed to do for the next 12 hours then, Commander?«

»We will play.«

--------

8 hours later in Commander Tucker's quarters.

--------

»Listen, T'Pol. I have made a significant discovery about our calligraphy. And I bet you a favor that you cannot come up with something equally impressive in … let's say one minute.«

»You claim to have insights into the calligraphy I have not? What are you talking about, Charles? I'll match it in 10 seconds at most.«

»Deal. Then look at this: If these two points are Earth and Sol, and if these two points are Vulcan and it's sun, then the distances between all points are in perfect relation to the actual distances between our home worlds.«

»With 85 points to choose from, the chances of that happening by coincidence are 0.273 percent, Charles. That is not impressive at all. This hardly qualifies as a challenge!«

»Is that so? Then tell me something better.«

»I have discovered that the edges in the calligraphy form a graph with perfect closure. It is not possible to take out any single edge without necessarily destroying the symmetry. In other words: The graph cannot be changed. It is perfect.«

»Sounds impressive.«

»With 84 edges, the chances of that happening are 0.0000000023 percent, Charles. Approximately.«

»Right.«

»Are you impressed?«

»Fine! You win. What do you want?«

»You could go to the Galley and fetch me a blueberry pie, Charles. I honestly don't understand why keep playing the game if you lose all the time.«

TO BE CONTINUED


	5. The Greater Good: Part I

**The Greater Good, Part I**

**Summary:** Sequel to »Revealed Minds«.

--------

Most of the crew was still in unrest. Ever since Commander Tucker and Subcommander T'Pol had taken up the Vulcan neuro-pressure, the gossip had run wild. It was fairly obvious that these two appreciated each other. When they both appeared for duty with their hands wrapped in bandages, some really bizarre theories had surfaced. When the bandages had _come off_, reality had been even more bizarre than the theories had been.

And now this.

»I am telling you, Rostov, I have known it for weeks. The bantering, the massages … I mean … of course there was something going on!«

»And you honestly believed that they would end up in a romantic relationship?

»It sure looked like it.«

»Of course it did, but would you have thought they would really get together? Had you thought that a Vulcan would even _know_ about romantic relationships?«

Lieutenant Hess considered that for a moment.

»Well … I'm not sure. I saw at least sexual tension.«

»That's what I saw. Fair enough, but how does a Vulcan engage in a romantic relationship? She has no emotions.«

»Perhaps it is mostly based on the sexual attraction?«

»That's not how Trip sounded in the Cargo Bay. But I wonder about her …«

»She is definitely emotionally attached to him.«

»How can you tell?«

»Because I saw her face in the Mess Hall today. She came in, stood by the door, and searched the whole room with her eyes. You can guess who she was looking for. But Trip wasn't there — and she looked real disappointed. Frustrated, almost. It was so cute, I almost burst out laughing!«

»Subcommander T'Pol looked disappointed?«

»Definitely.«

»I have to see that myself before I can believe it.«

Lieutenant Hess turned to Ensign Kelly, who had been quietly listening to the discussion.

»What do you think? Why don't you say anything?«

»I think it's wonderful that they are together.«

»And?«

»And what?«

»Do you think she can really love him?«

»Why shouldn't she?«

»Huh? Because she is Vulcan, we were talking about that the entire time, remember?«

»I just wonder why we all are so interested and curious about T'Pol, but nobody ever asks _her_. Why do we talk about her instead of with her?«

Rostov chuckled at the thought.

»Right, Kelly. We should simply ask T'Pol about her relationship to Trip?«

»Isn't it strange how nobody seems to know anything about T'Pol other than Trip and the Captain? Why is it that Trip and T'Pol outright flirt and banter, but we others hardly ever talk to her?«

»Because she is a senior officer.«

»So is Trip. Everybody talks to him.«

»But he is not Vulcan.«

»Right. That is what makes the difference.«

--------

»So what's the story with this Serat, T'Pol? How do you know him?«

»We grew up together. He was our neighbors' son.«

»You're kidding?«

»No. We have spent most of our childhood together. Later, we were even colleagues for a while.«

»And now he shows up in the Expanse? That's an incredible coincidence.«

»It is. But it is fortunate. I am pleased to see him again. It also pleases me that you can meet him, Charles.«

»I sure look forward to it. You said you were colleagues? What did you do?«

»We worked for the Ministry of Information.«

»What did you do there?«

»Reconnaissance and police work.«

»I beg you pardon?«

»We were undercover operatives. We brought criminals to justice.«

»_You_ were a secret agent, T'Pol?«

»For almost four years.«

Trip blinked several times, then looked at their hands. They were joined, their minds touched. It had to be true.

»I can't believe this.«

»Why not?«

»T'Pol, you don't look like a secret agent!«

»That's the point, Charles. No operative does.«

»My girlfriend is a secret agent. Wow.«

»I _was_.«

»Why did you quit?«

»Because I had to shoot a man who may very well have been innocent.«

»I am sorry, T'Pol.«

»I know, but don't worry. It cannot be changed, I have accepted it.«

»But Serat still is an undercover operative?«

»No, we both quit at the same time. We were … disillusioned. It was a childhood dream of both of us, Charles. When we were children, we pretended we were agents and went on secret missions together.«

»You have played _secret agent_ when you were a kid?«

»Why does that surprise you, Charles? Vulcan children grow up like Human children do. Controlling one's emotions has to be learned, we are not born like that.«

»You are right. I guess I had never thought about it.«

Trip's expression changed into a grin while he pondered the thought.

»Gosh, I would have loved to see you when you were a little girl, T'Pol. I bet you were all disciplined and buttoned up.«

»My parents described me as _spirited_.«

»This gets better and better.«

»Would you like to share the memories with me?«

»Please!«

T'Pol simply closed her eyes and sat there. Trip wondered what would happen … then he felt her consciousness pull at him, the world went out of focus, and with a sudden flash he was a 4 year old Vulcan girl.

--------

»Are you finished with the assignment already, Serat?«

»Yes, Mrs. T'Ban. I have found the correct solutions.«

»Let me see … indeed, they are correct. How did you arrive at those results, Serat? Where are the calculations that lead to them?«

»There were no calculations necessary, Mrs. T'Ban. The variables could only be prime numbers smaller than 100,000. So I just tried them all until I found the right answers.«

»But that is not the correct way to solve the equation, Serat.«

»Why not?«

»You have to practice doing the proper calculations, you cannot just _try_ some numbers at random.«

»But it worked?«

»But what if it had not worked?«

»Then I had done the proper calculations.«

»Then do it.«

»I already have the results.«

»But I will not accept them without the calculations.«

»Mrs. T'Ban?«

»Yes, T'Pol, what is it?«

»You are being illogical, Mrs. T'Ban. The way Serat arrived at the conclusions does not influence the validity of the results.«

»T'Pol would like to explain logic to me. Fine. Let me see your calculations, T'Pol.«

»I am not finished yet, Mrs. T'Pan. There are still 738 prime numbers to try before I have the results. In the worst case, of course.«

»T'Pol, Serat, tell you parents I want to see them.«

--------

»I hate school, Serat. The old Vulcans do nothing but make life difficult for us with their logic and their discipline and their narrow-mindedness.«

»I concur, T'Pol. They do not realize that we are no longer children! They cannot treat us like that. Mrs. T'Ban frequently fails to justify her decisions adequately.«

»She is a very inadequate teacher! How are we supposed to make progress if she insists we do everything the boooring way?«

»We simply cannot develop the full potential of our minds in such an environment!«

»And now she has called our parents in!«

»What do you think will happen?«

»I have no idea. I just hope my father goes, and not my mother.«

»We have to do something, T'Pol. Millions and millions of children are suffering in school. This is wrong! We must help them.«

»I suspect the whole school is one huge conspiracy. Perhaps the Andorians are behind it all?«

»If they are, they would keep the evidence at some immensely secretive place, T'Pol. We must find out where, and then go on a secret mission to obtain it.«

»I know where they would keep it!«

»Where?«

»In the temple of Mount Seleya, of course. Nobody would suspect it there!«

»You are brilliant, T'Pol!«

--------

»This is the plan, Serat. The armed guards patrol the perimeter about—«

»They are armed?«

»Well … they could be.«

»How many are there?«

»One. He stands by the entrance and greets the visitors. But often he walks around!«

»But how do we get in there?«

»We wait until he leaves, and then we sneak in.«

»And what if he does not leave the entrance for the whole afternoon? We have to be home for dinner.«

»We cannot plan _everything_, Serat. A certain element of risk will remain. Are you afraid?«

»I am not afraid of the risks! The cause is worth it.«

»Once the guards have left the target unobserved and vulnerable, I will lead the mission team through the shadows toward—«

»Why do you lead the mission team?«

»I am the ranking officer, Serat.«

»No way. I will be a Commander!«

»So what? Then I will be a Subcommander!«

»Then I will be from a different department of the Ministry of Information, T'Pol, then you have no authority over me.«

»I am older, Serat. I am the senior officer.«

»You are 24 _days_ older than I am, T'Pol.«

»You acknowledge it?«

»Fine! So you lead the mission team. What then?«

»We will approach the target through the shadows and—«

»There is shadow on Mount Seleya in the afternoon?«

»We could pretend there is.«

»Good.«

»Once we have infiltrated the complex, we must leave the pathways for the visitors as soon as possible, or we will be discovered. I have gathered information from the Mount Seleya Visitor's Guide, and according to this map, we can turn sharply right at this junction and will find a door that leads to the secret cellars.«

»How accurate is this map?«

»I have cross-checked the material with several other sources, Serat. We can be confident the door will be there.«

»What if it is closed?«

»Oh, do you think they would lock it?«

»We have to anticipate everything, T'Pol.«

»Well, if it is closed … then we'll go somewhere else.«

»We will make that decision when it comes to that, T'Pol. We cannot plan _everything_.«

»Then let us proceed, Serat. For the greater good of Vulcan!«

»For Vulcan!«

--------

»The guard will reach the corner in T minus 12.4 seconds, Commander. We must prepare to go. Have the gear ready.«

»Forget it, T'Pol, I will not carry your bag!«

--------

»We should be careful, Subcommander. We should not take the left route down to the entrance. It passes between those rocks over there.«

»You are right, Commander. The spot would be ideal for a trap. Let's go to the other side.«

--------

»Hurrah! I told you the door would not be locked.«

--------

»So what do we do now, T'Pol?«

»What do you mean?«

»We have infiltrated the secret tunnels of Mount Seleya! We have to do something.«

»We look for the evidence.«

»This is what we _pretend_ we do, T'Pol. No, I mean let us really do something. We should leave a mark somewhere!«

»Down here? In the cellars? What good would that do?«

»It proves that we have been here. It will add to the feeling of accomplishment.«

»I have an idea! You are brilliant, Serat. You know what we will do?«

»What?«

»We will write the results of our homework assignment to the walls! As a symbol of our defiance against the merciless school system.«

»This is brilliant! Let's do it.«

»I told you it would be a good idea to bring my bag, Serat. You would have stumbled in here totally unprepared, and then we would have had no pens, no paint, and nothing. All would have been for naught!«

»Forget it, T'Pol. I will not carry your bag on the way out either.«

»Fine! But then you will have to do the math, because I have to write. You have no pen.«

»We have a problem, T'Pol.«

»Why?«

»We cannot use the results of our homework assignment.«

»Why not?«

»That would lead them to us.«

»Holy Surak, you are right! But what else could we use?«

»I don't know.«

For a moment they just stood there in silent disappointment.

»Serat, I have an idea.«

»What is it?«

»We could introduce errors into the calculations. Then they wouldn't know what it is.«

»Errors?«

»Yes.«

»Are you irrational, T'Pol? You propose to introduce _errors_ into the calculations? Do you have any idea what will happen if they ever catch us?«

»We will tell them, we hadn't known it any better. We will tell them, this was the way Mrs. T'Ban had taught us to do it!«

»You are brilliant, T'Pol! You are brilliant! _If_ they catch us, we will take her down with us.«

»Let's get to work!«

--------

»This is the greatest secret mission we have ever been on, T'Pol.«

»Definitely. Soon we will be a force to reckoned with. Teachers all over Vulcan will speak in fear of the secret agent pupils who defy the merciless system for the greater good of Vulcan.«

»Ha! Nobody will ever be able to stop us.«

»Children? What are you doing down here?«

--------

»S'Ter, we have to talk about your daughter.«

»Your choice of words to designate the child we _both_ erroneously believed would bring peace to our lives suggests that our daughter has done something wrong again?«

»She and Serat have broken into the temple on Mount Seleya.«

»No!«

»They disturbed the quiet and order there.«

»No!«

»They even caused significant damage to some of the ancient structure by writing incomprehensible signs and patterns on the wall.«

»I can barely control my rage, T'Pon. We will have to punish her severely for that.«

»Yes, I agree. She will need to be disciplined harshly.«

»Yes.«

»Absolutely.«

»I could sing the _Falor's Journey_ to her.«

»348 verses?«

»Of course.«

»She broke into the temple, S'Ter, she did not annihilate it.«

»100 verses?«

»When you sing it, S'Ter, a single verse might cause irrepairable damage to her mind and hearing.«

»What do you suggest?«

»Why don't we make her play _Kal-toh_?«

»Wonderful! There is nothing to punish a child like games for adult Vulcans. How many symmetrical shapes do we make her assemble?«

»20?«

»You cannot be serious, T'Pon?«

»You think that's too few?«

»I would say 3 at most! Have you ever played _Kal-toh_?«

»I suppress the memories.«

»Perhaps you shouldn't. She will be bored out of her child's mind, the game will cause her discomfort, unrest, serious emotional distress, hallucinations — we have no idea what it would do to her.«

»But we have to punish her, S'Ter. And while we are at it, please try to hide your pride better when we talk to her.«

»I have every reason to be proud, T'Pon.«

»Of course we have, but _showing_ it in her presence appears to be counter-productive.«

»Have you heard what little Puk has done?«

»Wonek's son?«

»Yes. Puk tried to come up with a chemical substance that makes him invincible to fire.«

»Again?«

»This time he intended to prove it, and he has burned down his parents wardrobe in the process.«

»I am certain the Ambassador is pleased. Such a mature child!«

»Indeed. Far more inventive than, say, our daughter is. She doesn't come up with wonderful things like _playing with fire_, she only does uncreative things like breaking into the most sacred building on the planet.«

»And unlike little Puk, my daughter _succeeded_ breaking into the most sacred building on the planet.«

»We will have to punish her severely for that.«

»Absolutely.«

»I know!«

»You have an idea?«

»We will make her _attend_ one of the ceremonies in the temple.«

»Wonderful! She will _hate_ that.«

--------

»You are fortunate your father and I are too disciplined to allow ourselves the emotion of _disappointment_. However, your father and I do not have the fortune of a disciplined daughter. You have caused … severe chaos and disorder, T'Pol.«

»Mother. I realize, I have had a lapse of judgment. And I acknowledge the possibility that an insignificant amount of unrest has resulted because of it. I promise, I will never break into the temple of Mount Selaya again.«

»Your father agrees with me, T'Pol, that this lapse of judgment of yours has earned you the reward of learning more about discipline.«

T'Pol's face was panic stricken. She would be punished! Oh no! Her mother always handed out SEVERE punishments. Oh no!

»Since you have shown an interest in Mount Seleya, we have concluded to allow you to attend a day at the temple during the ceremonies of _Kolinahr_.«

OH NO!

»Mother, this cruel punishment is illogical. I am too young to for a _whole day_ of ceremonies!«

»It will train your discipline.«

»But wouldn't it be much more logical not to punish me for bad things I have done, but to reward me for the good things I do? I would learn much more in a positive environment, I am still a child!«

»But you cannot stay a child forever, T'Pol. So you will have to learn to be disciplined.«

T'Pol was shattered! _Kolinahr_, of all things, why did it have to be _Kolinahr_? She would have to sit still the entire day. She would have to listen to nothing but humming Vulcans the entire time, and she wouldn't be allowed to do _anything_ for a whole day! Oh no!

T'Pon looked at her daughter's expression and fought for control. She would _not_ laugh! With a lifetime of training she suppressed the emotion, turned around, and gracefully left the room. Once outside, she wondered where best to go. Her daughter's hearing was very acute …

T'Pol thought furiously, there had to be something she could do? She could not spend an entir—

»I understand you and Serat have badly damaged the ancient walls with … paint, my daughter?«

Uh, oh!

»Several members of the temple did, of course, perform an investigation, and they concluded, that you two wrote a series of random numbers on the wall?«

»They were not random, father!«

»Of course they were, T'Pol. The _wise_ members of the temple have determined they are.«

»They were not!«

»Then what order was there?«

»It were the results of an iterated function of hyperbolic terms.«

»That is what you are just learning in school right now, T'Pol. Surely an adult Vulcan would recognize the pattern of the sinus function?«

»We avertedly introduced a rounding error into the number _pi_ when calculating the results. So no-one would notice the pattern.«

»T'Pol! What have you done? Do you have any idea what severe consequences this act might have?«

T'Pol looked wide-eyed at her father.

»If they found out that you introduced an _error_ into the calculation, it might cause a massive incident!«

»Oh no!«

»Oh yes, my daughter! The Math Division of the Ministry of Information will take the case over, this will be a planet-wide affair once it becomes known. They will question your math teacher, they will have to investigate this, it will take months!«

»Father, please believ—«

»They might even close down the entire school!«

T'Pol had had no idea! All she had wanted was to do something curious, she didn't want to cause problems!

»There is only one way out of this mess, my daughter.«

»WHAT IS IT?«

»When you are in the temple, during _Kolinahr_, you will have to stealthily escape from the elders, then you must find your way through the tunnels, erase the writing from the wall, and return to the ceremony before anyone notices. There must be no trace left! You will destroy the evidence before any harm comes out of it.«

»I will, father!«

»You must be very careful, T'Pol. _Kolinahr_ is a strange time for Vulcans, there may be violent outbursts, there might be danger all around you. Under no circumstances must you fall into the hands of the monks who meditate deep in the tunnels!«

»I will not, father!«

»And in the name of Surak, keep this absolutely secret! No-one must ever know! We will never speak of it again. Talk to Serat. Tell him to be QUIET about what you have done. You can also ask him whether he wants to help you. After all, he has caused this mess as much as you did.«

»I am certain he will not refuse to help with this mission, father.«

»Good. And now … shhhhh. Don't tell your mother even!«

--------

»Your father set you up on secret missions?«

»Both my parents encouraged me to use my imagination.«

»Is that common on Vulcan?«

»No.«

»That's a shame.«

»You would be a good father, Charles. If we had a daughter, she would constantly need her imagination to think of ways to keep you out of trouble when I was not there.«

»You mean, when you left me with the kids at home so that you could go on secret missions? And then you'd return after weeks and weeks without a message and say that you were on a business trip?«

»What did you expect? I would not be able to tell you the truth. It is for your own protection.«

»Protection?«

»In case you would fall into enemy hands …«

»Sounds like a difficult environment to raise a child.«

»What else could we do?«

»We are both scientists, T'Pol. We could always find a good job in research somewhere. We could live on Earth, we could live on a deep space station, we could even live on Vulcan.«

»No, Vulcan would be a difficult environment to raise a child. Especially a hybrid girl.«

»Or boy.«

»Most likely a girl.«

»What would she look like? I bet she would be impossibly cute. Like her mother.«

»She would be exhausting and taxing, like her father.«

»You mean spirited?«

But all Trip got for an answer was a passionate kiss.

--------

Their Vulcan visitor would arrive any moment now. Trip felt the distinct thump when his ship made contact with the docking clamps. The Captain, T'Pol, and he had assembled by the airlock to greet Captain Serat. Trip was more than curious to see the man. When the airlock opened and he saw him, he was flat-out disappointed. Serat looked perfectly normal, like any other Vulcan.

Of course. What had he expected? A secret agent? Ready to write stuff on the walls of the corridors?

But one thing was different about him. He was incredibly attentive, Trip could immediately tell. In less than a second, the Vulcan had virtually scanned the room. This guy wanted to know everything.

--------

T'Pol fought a strange battle with herself. Should she? Or better not? Was it inappropriate? What would the Captain say? But she _wanted_ to! But then she thought of what Charles would say: What the hell.

T'Pol took a step forward to stand before Serat. She calmly looked at him and slowly raised her left hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting. Then she spoke.

»Greetings, Agent Serat. Live long and prosper, for the greater good of Vulcan.«

There was distinct flicker in his eyes before he replied.

»For Vulcan, Agent T'Pol.«

She would have to answer a lot of questions later, but it had been worth it.

»T'Pol, this is a very interesting calligraphy. Is it a graph with perfect closure?«

»Yes, Serat. It is.«

»I had no idea you had chosen a bond-mate, T'Pol. My congratulations! I hope your husband is aboard? I would certainly like to meet him.«

And on top of it all, the humans were treated the sight of Vulcan Science Officer T'Pol blushing dark green.

--------

The dinner had been very enjoyable. Captain Serat had no problem with talking during the meal, as Trip and Archer had feared at first.

»No, thank you very much, Captain. I have eaten quite enough. But I have to say that your Chef is very skilled in the preparation of Vulcan food.«

»I will let him know. He has had some practice, thanks to T'Pol.«

»You are the only Vulcan aboard this ship, T'Pol?«

»Our physician is from Denobula, Serat. But all other crew members are humans.«

»This is a very interesting experiment you have here, Captain. And apparently a very successful one. Vulcans have been known to be … slow to adapt. Rarely has a Vulcan really been able to integrate into an alien crew.«

»I think I can safely say that it wasn't easy for any of us in the beginning. Certainly not for T'Pol. We haven't always made it easy for her.«

»That is correct, Captain.«

»Mostly because she has been stubborn.«

Serat looked at Trip with mock surprise: »T'Pol can be stubborn? That is hard to believe.«

Archer asked him with a laugh: »She has always been like that? You know her much longer than we do, from what I am told.«

T'Pol wondered whether she should deny the accusation. But she decided not to, because she anticipated that she would end up proving their point.

»T'Pol has always been very determined to reach her goals. Haven't you, T'Pol? It comes as no surprise to me that you have been able to adapt.«

»Determined to reach your goals?« Trip asked her with a grin. »I like that.«

»When it comes to educating you about logic, Commander Tucker, then this is a goal I have given up on reaching.«

»Wonderful.«

»There is one thing I'd _really_ like to know, though.« Captain Archer addressed Serat. »How does it come you are out here? I had never expected to meet a Vulcan vessel in the Expanse.«

TO BE CONTINUED


	6. The Greater Good: Part II

**The Greater Good, Part II**

**Summary:** Sequel to Part I.

--------

»I am an explorer, Captain. I thought this area of space was curious.«

»Really? I thought Vulcans wouldn't enter the Expanse? We sure would have liked a Vulcan ship or two to help with our mission, but they flat-out refused to enter the Expanse.«

The Vulcan looked at T'Pol as if he was asking her a question, but he didn't say anything. T'Pol returned his gaze and nodded. Then Serat answered.

»I don't believe the true reason why you are alone here, Captain, has anything to do with the Expanse. I believe the Vulcan High-Command has concluded that helping Humanity would not serve their own interests.«

Trip and Archer exchanged a look of confusion.

»What reasons could there be for that?«

»Many of the bureaucrats who make the decisions in the High Command, Captain, are _very_ narrow-minded. They interpret the teachings of Surak in way I am sure he would have never intended it to be read. In my opinion, many of the decisions made by the High Command are driven by isolationistic tendencies.«

»How do you know all this? What has happened to Earth, about our mission, what the High Command would think?«

»I have some very sophisticated communications hardware, Captain. And I have trusted former colleagues in the right places.«

»You have worked for the High Command?«

»Yes, Captain. I was an Ambassador to Andoria for 5 years. I have worked in public service all my life.«

Again he looked at T'Pol with an almost gleeful expression, before he added: »Even as a child.«

Now Trip addressed Serat: »I hope you don't mind my asking, but if you have been an _Ambassador_ before, why do you spend your time in a one-man vessel in the Expanse?«

»I have … given up on Vulcan, so to say. I chose exile.«

»Exile?«

»Like I said, Commander Tucker, many of the leading bureaucrats are _very_ narrow-minded.«

»We have noticed.«

»This narrow-mindedness isn't limited to their dealings with alien affairs, Commander. It extends well into the Vulcan society. And the effects have become worse over the decades. When I grew up, Vulcan was a planet that welcomed visitors, a planet that welcomed diversity. My parents raised me by the motto _Va'Vuhnaya s'Va'Terishlar_ — infinite diversity in infinite combinations. But this motto is no longer cherished on Vulcan.«

»Then what motto do they cherish?«

»Control.«

»Control?«

T'Pol looked at Trip while she spoke: »Today, Commander Tucker, the temple of Mount Seleya _is_ protected by armed guards. Children can no longer enter it.«

»But that's so sad! How can such a thing be logical?«

Serat answered him: »Security, Commander. Many of my fellow Vulcans have — in my opinion — lost perspective. They no longer aim to control their emotions, they aim to control _everything_. They have become afraid of change. They want all things to stay exactly the way they are.«

»But that is impossible!«

»Yes. And it is very ironic. The bureaucrats believe their actions are motivated by control over emotions, but in fact, they are motivated by _fear_. Isn't that curious?«

»But you do not believe in control?«

»I believe in _understanding_, Commander. Vulcan children learn to control their emotional reactions by understanding them. During meditation, they reflect on their actions. We all do. We analyze our actions in retrospect; we determine whether our emotions have influenced our actions. And if they have, we learn to avoid it. After years of disciplined training, the process becomes completely subconscious. The mind has so much practice that you could say an adult Vulcan doesn't experience emotions anymore. They won't even reach the conscious thought process.«

The humans thought about that for a moment. Then Captain Archer said: »So what you are saying is that you cannot control something you cannot understand, right?«

»Nobody can.«

»And how does that apply to the High Command?«

»The bureaucrats in the High Command wish to control. But at the same time, they are unwilling to learn! Just look at the situation regarding Earth, Captain. The High Command wishes to control Humanity. So they send Ambassadors to influence the decisions of your government. At the same time, though, the High Command refuses to accept any new ideas from Humankind; they refuse to learn about Humanity. They even refuse to engage in real dialogue: there is no Human Ambassador to Vulcan.«

»You are right. There isn't.«

»Once more there is a beautiful irony in the fact, Captain: Since they don't understand Humanity, they will be unable to control you! Their efforts are bound to fail. Curious, isn't it?«

Trip shook his head in disbelieve. »But it doesn't make any sense! How is it possible for the High Command to act like this and yet at the same time they are guided by _logic_?«

»No, Commander. They _say_ they are guided by logic. They even _believe_ they are. But that does not mean they _are_.«

Captain Archer fell back in his chair and sighed. »This is very distressing news, Captain Serat. I have had no idea the problems where that extensive!«

»Our society has reached a state where many of the most brilliant minds leave the planet. Progress necessitates change. It is not possible to exercise free thought if the outcome of the research has to conform to the policies of the High Command. So I have chosen to explore space, to explore other cultures.«

»Captain Serat, I am sorry to hear all that. We have had some … troubling experiences with the High Command, but I really thought it was just problems between our species.«

»Don't waste your time with sorrow, Captain. It would be much more appropriate to appreciate the coincidence that our paths have crossed. You cannot know it, but the crew of this ship has had a certain significance in my life. I am pleased to be on the ENTERPRISE in person.«

»Now I am really curious, Captain! In what way has ENTERPRISE been significant to your life?«

»I have resigned my post on Andoria after the spy station on P'Jem was uncovered.«

--------

»T'Pol, you appear to be much more content than you were the last time we have met.«

»You are right, Serat. I believe I have found a way to live a meaningful life. Living among the humans has given me a new perspective.«

»You realize that you have not changed at all?«

»I have changed very much, Serat.«

»No. You have not.«

»You are wrong, Serat. I am a very different person than I used to be.«

»You are exactly the person you used to be, T'Pol. Did you listen to your own words when you greeted me?«

»I thought it was appropriate.«

»I would have never expected that you would refer to our childhood in public.«

»Why not?«

»That is the question I asked myself when you did it. Why not? It was a refreshingly curious surprise. A _child_ would have done something like that.«

»You believe I acted like a child?«

»You acted like the T'Pol I knew when I was a child.«

»And you replied in kind!«

»You just did it again, T'Pol.«

T'Pol blinked several times.

»You are right!«

»You had not realized it?«

»No!«

»How is that possible?«

»It is Commander Tucker's fault!«

»T'Pol …«

»Right.« She closed her eyes and breathed deeply for a moment. Slowly her face grew calm and devoid of expression.

»My assessment was correct, Serat. It _is_ the influence of Commander Tucker. I am acting like a child in his presence. I indulge my imagination. I even _play_ with him.«

»I have noticed.«

She looked at nowhere in particular and spoke more to herself than to Serat: »Charles makes me feel like a child …«

»It is only logical that you feel content then, T'Pol.«

»I am losing control, Serat. I indulge my emotions. I realize I have become irrational.«

»Now that you understand it, T'Pol, you can suppress the emotion.«

»Yes.«

»Will you?«

»What do you think I should do?«

»What would your chosen one think you should do?«

»He would encourage me.«

»What would he think if you decided to suppress those emotions?«

»It would hurt him.«

»Could he deal with that?«

»Yes.« Was that right? »Probably.« He had said _I need you to care for me_ …

»No.«

»Fascinating.«

»I simply don't understand it, Serat. His presence affects me in ways I had not known before. I have no control.«

»You mean no _complete_ control, T'Pol.«

»Correct.«

»I thought it was very refreshing.«

»I appreciate your advice, Serat.«

»That's the only reason you survived out there, T'Pol. If I had not been by your side to question your horrible plans, we would never have made it into the temple.«

T'Pol blinked. Instantly something changed in her expression.

»If it weren't for _me_, Serat, you would have stood in the temple without a pen!«

Then she blinked again. Serat's expression was deadpan.

»Your emotions are very easy to reach, T'Pol. I am not certain the High Command would approve, but I think it is refreshing.«

»I wonder whether it is dangerous for me to exist like that. Can it be right to indulge emotions? Am I leaving the path of Surak, Serat?«

»I don't know.«

»My logic tells me I am leaving the path. I had not realized it before, but I let my emotions determine my actions when it comes to Charles.«

»You cannot trust your logic then, T'Pol.«

»Why is that?«

»If your emotions _do_ determine your actions concerning your chosen one, then you do obviously _not_ act logically. Your thoughts are always influenced by the emotions.«

»But what other means would I have to decide? Other than logic, I mean?«

»I don't know, T'Pol. I have never experienced what you are now going through.«

»I realize, Serat, I may also have chosen exile.«

»By bonding with a human you certainly will, T'Pol. But when I made that choice, I asked myself what I had to lose. Why not try something entirely different?«

»New diversity? New combinations?«

»Exactly, it is only logical that your emotions would be closer to the surface, T'Pol. You live on a starship full of emotional humans. You would probably not have been able to adapt otherwise.«

»I have learned many things, Serat. You would be surprised how much like children humans are.«

»It must be wonderful to live among children, T'Pol.«

»It depends.«

--------

»Why did you leave Vulcan, Serat?«

»I had no other choice. After I left the High Command, I wondered about other means of bringing progress to Vulcan. There are groups of people who embrace innovative ideas, who research new concepts. I studied their work for a while, but nothing really conclusive came out of it.«

»What did you do?«

»I turned my attention to old ideas instead. I discovered the mental disciplines, the more abstract capabilities of the mind. Knowledge which Vulcans have had for a long time but have chosen to ignore.«

»You became a melder?«

»Yes. I have experimented with all kinds of techniques. It appears that our species has an amazing potential for development in that field. It is hard to predict what forms of communication alone could be discovered if we would use our telepathic abilities.«

And suddenly T'Pol drew a perplexing conclusion.

»You have contracted the Pa'nar Syndrome?«

»Yes. Eventually it became impossible to work on Vulcan.«

»This will be a surprise for you, Serat. …«

--------

Serat decided it would be necessary to find a moment of calm. He had to reflect on what he had just found out. This coincidence was too incredible to just ignore it.

He sat down on at one of the tables by the window in Mess Hall. He looked at the stars.

It had been pleasant to meet the Denobulan physician. A curious man! Full of ideas and very enthusiastic. Serat appreciated individuals like him. Doctor Phlox had been thorough in the examination. It was obvious he was very intelligent. Serat had been amazed by the progress the Denobulan had made with the treatment. Had he met him earlier, his disease could probably have been cured, or at least been stopped from progressing.

Serat had continued to speak with the Doctor for quite a while after the physician had given him the diagnosis. Doctor Phlox was interested in many sciences; they had even talked about physics. Who would have expected that? The Doctor knew quite a bit about it. It was a small surprise the Denobulan was a good scientist, he embraced new knowledge.

The Vulcan High-Command had not embraced the knowledge. Doctor Phlox had offered them his results several times, but they had refused to even look at it. Curing Pa'nar Syndrome had not been a problem that was worthy of their attention. Their attention was dedicated to building spy arrays on P'Jem. They focused their research on building more powerful weapons instead.

He understood his sadness.

Now he controlled it.

»I'm not disturbing you, am I, Captain Serat?«

»Not at all, Commander Tucker. Please, have a seat.«

»T'Pol has shared some of her childhood memories with me, Captain. It is a strange experience for me now, because I see you and have the feeling that I know you since you were a little kid. But in fact, I have met you just 8 hours ago.«

»I believe that must be distracting, Commander. I am sure many of the experiences you have made were very new?«

»Ever since I got together with T'Pol, you mean?«

»Yes.«

»I can tell you. After this ritual … « Trip held up his hand. »… the world hasn't been the same.«

»The outcome is exceptional, Commander.«

»That's what T'Pol said.«

»The connection is assumed to be very strong if the minds can ignore the pain long enough so that blood is drawn. A wonderfully archaic ritual.«

»T'Pol said, it's performed by children?«

»Indeed, Commander. Sometimes Vulcan children perform it. Nobody knows their reasons. What were yours?«

»I had no reasons. My words were _let's do it_.«

Serat was obviously amused by this.

»I had hoped new insights could be gathered from your case, Commander. But it appears not.«

»Isn't that a very illogical ritual then?«

»Of course. It is very rare.«

»What do Vulcan parents say to their kids doing illogical things like that?«

»We teach them how to do calligraphy, Commander.«

--------

T'Pol's chosen bond-mate was a very pleasant man. Quite intelligent. And openly curious. He wondered what it was like when they played. An adult Vulcan and an adult Human playing games together, that was something he would like to observe.

It was unfortunate that he would not have the opportunity.

But he had an even more important opportunity. He had the opportunity to bring _change_ to Vulcan. Doctor Phlox had mentioned the virus in passing while they were talking about biology. Serat had not thought such a thing was possible, but the Doctor had shown him the data. This virus could change sentient beings into Loque'eque. Amazing.

This solved a very delicate ethical problem. If he would use the virus, he wouldn't even cause lives to end. He would merely bring change! It was wonderful.

He knew the Andorians well enough to predict how they would react. If they found out that Vulcans were immune to the virus, they would immediately suspect a deliberate attack. They were very paranoid. They would expel all Vulcans from their planets. There would almost certainly be open hostilities. This was the part that still wasn't quite right. There would be loss of life.

But there simply was no other way! Both Vulcans and Andorians had armed themselves to their teeth, _of course_ there would be open hostilities. But they would happen in any case, it was inevitable. They had steered towards hostilities constantly for the last few decades. In a manner of speaking, it would release the tension.

Once open hostilities broke out, there would be a massive movement on Vulcan. His people would never dare to step into war. The bureaucrats might even be willing to do it, but not the Vulcan people. There would be a powerful force of change. If the force would not be strong enough, if there would be war, then war was obviously inevitable. Then there would _definitely_ be change. The Vulcan people would have to decide which way they wanted to go. Into peace and dialogue, or into war.

He wouldn't make that decision. He could only set the trigger that would make it happen.

The ethics still were problematic. The situation was very complex, it was not easy to reach a pure logical conclusion. Too many factors of belief came into the equation.

But the point was: Change was only possible when someone _did_ something. There were many on Vulcan who could not see the logic in the High Command's actions, but nobody ever did anything. It was only logical, how could an individual do anything that influenced a system this large and this powerful?

He could. He had the chance. He had detected the ENTERPRISE on his sensors, T'Pol had reminded him of a time when change still seemed possible, he had found the virus on the very same ship that had caused the incident that made him the Vulcan he was. Was this coincidence?

Was the greater good he had always sought available right here at his fingertips?

The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. His whole _species_ was in need. He had the chance to bring the history of Vulcan back into movement after decades of stagnation. He had the chance to bring change. And according to the Doctor's diagnosis, it might be the last chance he would ever get.

Would he pass up on it, his whole life would have been meaningless.

He blinked.

The problem was how to acquire the virus. Sickbay was relatively close to the airlock where his ship was docked. The airlock had a trivial number code, he would be able to open it. There were no sensors or security cameras in the direct vicinity. Even if there were, it was unlikely anyone would pay attention to him going back to his own ship. It would take less than 30 seconds to get the weapon.

The virus was deposited in a rather secure locker in Sickbay. Shooting it open was not an option because he might destroy the virus. Probably only senior officers would know the codes. T'Pol would never give them him without a lengthy and detailed discussion, but this course of action was too risky. There was no telling whether she would be willing to accept the logic, she was emotional right now. That left him with Commander Tucker and Captain Archer.

Clearly Commender Tucker would be vulnerable because of T'Pol. If he threatened to harm T'Pol, the human would do anything, he was certain. This was the most logical course of action, there was little to no risk that the human would resist. On the other hand, Commander Tucker knew of his appreciation for T'Pol. The human might not believe that he was willing to hurt T'Pol. Perhaps Captain Archer was the key? He could not estimate his reactions at all. If he had made it Captain of the first Human starship, he was most likely determined. He would probably not give in to extortion.

It would be necessary to ascertain authority if he wanted to reduce the risks. He knew little about Human customs, but violence would almost certainly achieve this. He would have to injure either Captain Archer or Commander Tucker to put pressure on the other and to make sure they understood he was not _playing games_ with them. Injuring T'Pol was not an option. Injuring her chosen one was no option either.

He would injure Captain Archer and then threaten to injure T'Pol in order to extort the virus. Commander Tucker would comply.

This meant four unknown variables in Sickbay. He could stun Doctor Phlox right away. That would reduce the risks. He would injure the Captain seriously enough to take him out of the equation. T'Pol was very dangerous. He had to be extremely careful with her. Under no circumstances could she be allowed to interfere, the risk that he would have to harm her was too great.

Serat paused for a moment.

If it came to it … would he injure T'Pol? He had to decide this before he proceeded.

No.

This was not an option.

He would stun her the moment the Commander had complied. This would reinforce the threat and protect her. If she managed to interfere before that, then he would have to improvise. But hurting her was not an option.

Once he had the virus, he would stun Commander Tucker as well. The way back to the airlock would take him 38.2 seconds. He could observe the junction before Sickbay for 14.9 seconds. No-one could enter it and discover the incident without him knowing it. That left a window of 23.3 seconds in which the incident might be discovered.

It was a risk, but there was nothing he could do to reduce it.

It was imperative that he disabled ENTERPRISE's engines as soon as possible after returning to his ship. He was fairly certain that a single directed hit at a point on the starboard nacelle could do it. The Vulcans had given the Humans design plans of their old nacelles, and they had that problem. It would trigger an energy overload and shut down the warp reactor. But the hull plating had to be powered down so that it would work. He had to be quick.

What if the Humans had fixed that design flaw? His sensors would be able to detect the overload. He would know whether it had worked within approximately 1.3 seconds. If it would not work, he would have to damage the nacelle. It would be very regrettable, but it would be illogical to risk a failure of the mission so close to success.

How to assemble them. He would see Doctor Phlox and broach the topic of his disease once more. That would be inconspicuous. Then he would ask the Doctor to call the senior officers under the pretense that he wanted to talk to them. He would pretend that he wanted to stay aboard to be treated. The Doctor would not be able to make that decision without the Captain, and it would appear natural that he would want to speak with T'Pol and her chosen one as well.

Essential for the success was the element of surprise. Right now he was alone and unobserved. He could not know whether he would get that chance again. He had to act now.

--------

It went perfect. All three arrived at once. He waited until they had put a distance between them and the door.

»You wanted to tal—«

Just as the Captain addressed him, Serat took aim and fired. He hit the human squarely on the shoulder. The impact sent him into a spin and he tumbled, only to lose consciousness and fall flat on the ground.

With a flick of his thumb, he set the phaser on stun, took aim, and shot Doctor Phlox. He hit the Denobulan straight on the chest and he collapsed immediately.

He flicked the weapon back to a higher yield level and made sure T'Pol and Commander Tucker saw him do it. The whole incident had lasted 2.6 seconds so far.

»Listen carefully. Do not interfere. The Captain is not mortally wounded, Phlox was only stunned. If you cooperate, nobody will be seriously harmed. I don't wish to. So don't force me. Do you see the logic, T'Pol?«

T'Pol just looked at him wide-eyed. She did not answer. Serat understood. With her emotions closer to the surface it would be more difficult for her to remain in control under the circumstances. He was causing her distress. He had to make this as quick as possible.

He took a step towards T'Pol and placed the phaser squarely on her brow. There was a distinct sound as the yield regulator of his weapon hit the maximum setting. T'Pol tensed up awkwardly. She became so rigid, Serat wondered whether she could even move her arms in this state.

He changed his position slightly so that he could see both Commander Tucker and T'Pol. He kept the phaser to T'Pol's head.

»Do not destabilize the situation, Commander Tucker. I need you to open the bio-hazard locker in the Doctor's compartment. Will you cooperate?«

To his surprise, T'Pol yelled at her chosen one: »It contains the virus, Charles! Under no circumstances can you cooperate!«

Serat focused on T'Pol. He could not risk her attacking him. The Commander would not dare to interfere while he had the weapon to her head. He noticed that the Human was just staring at them with his mouth open. He was clearly not in control.

»I will count to three, Commander Tucker. Then I will fire. I advice you not to misjudge my determination, answer yes or no: Will you cooperate? … One.«

»This is an order, Commander, you will NOT cooperate.«

»Two.«

»I will do whatever you say, Serat! Just do not hurt her, I beg you!«

»NO, CHARLES!«

Serat flicked the phaser back to stun, took a step back, and fired at T'Pol. She collapsed immediately. He kept aim at her body as she lay on the floor. He noticed that the Human's face had become as white as the walls in Sickbay. An interesting reaction. He had had no idea his species could do that. Fascinating.

»I stunned her to protect her, Charles. I wanted to make sure she would not force me to do something we both do not want. Don't be concerned. I will not harm her. Simply open the locker and all will be over in less than one minute. No serious damage will have been done. Please proceed.«

--------

»Lieutenant, the Vulcan ship has just undocked.«

»It has?«

»Yes, Lieutenant.«

»Ensign Sato, hail the TALAR — Ensign Beerman, scan them.«

Lieutenant Reed got up from the chair in the center of the bridge and walked over to the weapons console.

»One life sign aboard, Sir. A Vulcan.«

»Is it Captain Serat?«

»Strange … I can no longer read anything, Sir. The TALAR seems to be jamm—«

»Phaser impact on the starboard nacelle, Sir!«

Reed immediately reached for the console to power up hull plating. Then he triggered a tactical alert.

»Ensign Beerman, damage report!«

But Travis answered first: »The TALAR just went to warp, Sir.«

--------

Trip was worried sick. Phlox had assured him the Captain would be okay, but Jonathan had not regained consciousness yet and probably would not for a while. T'Pol was in command, and her condition worried him even more. He had absolutely no idea what had happened. It was a disaster.

»How long until we have warp drive back on-line, Commander?«

»I cannot say for sure, there was a massive overload on the starboard nacelle, and it went straight into the reactor. Lots of the parts were not designed to withstand that kind of energ—«

»_How long_, Commander? Give me an estimate.«

»At least four hours.«

»Four hours?«

»At least.«

Trip could see that T'Pol was devastated. Her emotions felt horrible. He knew that she controlled them right now. Or rather, tried to control them. He could feel it. He could feel her distress. She felt horrible. And he shared her emotions. He felt horrible, too. He was devastated.

»We will work as fast as we can, T'Pol.«

»That is unnecessary, Commander. He will be long gone by then. If it had been 40 minutes, we might have had a chance.«

»We still have a chance, T'Pol.«

»Charles, we have no chance at all! The ship is far too small to leave a significant warp trail, in four hours there will be nothing left. It is illogical to assume we could still catch him. Serat would never have attacked us if he had not been certain he could escape.«

»We can't simply give up.«

»We have no alternative. We are completely out of options.«

»Don't talk like that, T'Pol, please. He might make a mistake, he might have an engine problem, coincidences happen all the time.«

»Why did you give him the virus, Charles?«

»Why! Because he had a phaser put to your head, T'Pol.«

»Do you have any idea how many individuals will perish when this virus is released? It might affect billions of sentient beings!«

»We don't know that is what he wants to do.«

»Of course we know! Why else would he do such at thing? For research?«

»We simply don't know it, T'Pol. We have no idea what will happen. Don't assume the worst!«

»How could you violate my direct order, Charles? How could you do it? You MUST have realized the implications of this virus getting into the wrong hands!«

»T'Pol, you are talking about some abstract threat that may or may not become true. But he had a _phaser put to your forehead_. The implications of that threat were far more pressing in that moment.«

»Your decision was grossly unethical, Charles! It is the most unbelievable act of illogic I have ever seen you commit! Why did you do it? What were your reasons? How can you explain that? _Billions of lives_, Charles!«

They stood in the Captain's ready room and glared at each other. Trip could not stay calm when she was upset. T'Pol could not stay rational when he felt strongly. The air threatened to explode around them, so many excess emotions boiled in them after this experience.

They stared at each other for several moments, before they both took a step backwards at the same time.

Trip blinked. He had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that it was wrong. He looked at T'Pol again and her emotions had changed too. She was hurt. She was badly hurt. And so was he.

»We will continue this discussion later, Commander. See to it that the repairs are done as quickly as possible.«

»Aye, Subcommander.«

--------

T'Pol never ceased to amaze Captain Archer. She was completely calm. She was perfectly in control. How was this possible? Just an hour ago, her best friend had put a phaser to her head and threatened to kill her. But here she stood and explained the situation to him without any trace of an emotional reaction in her voice or her face.

He sure envied her sometimes, because he felt terrible. The wound was severe. Phlox had said, lasting damage was unlikely, but it would takes days before it was healed.

»Do we have any idea what he is up to?«

»We can only speculate, Captain. But his options are somewhat limited. It is safe to assume that Serat planned to release the virus somewhere. Had he just wanted to study it, it would have been unnecessary to resort to violence — Phlox said he had shared the data with Serat already.«

»Where could he want to release it?«

»Serat's goal is — and has always been — to bring progress to Vulcan society, Captain. He believes, this necessitates change. Whatever he is planning to do, it will be something that would directly affect Vulcan.«

»But he cannot do that it in the Expanse. It will takes his ship months to reach Vulcan. This doesn't make sense, T'Pol, he can't assume nobody will catch him for the next several months!«

»Vulcans are largely immune to the virus. I doubt Vulcan itself would be his target. He would achieve very little by releasing it there.«

»How else could he affect Vulcan?«

»He has been an Ambassador to Andoria, Captain. If he released the virus on an Andorian colony, the act would most definitely have severe repercussions for the relations between our species. If it came out that he did it, the Andorians will necessarily assume that he was backed by the High Command.«

»Going to Andoria will take as long as going to Vulcan, T'Pol. This time frame is too long for my taste. If I were him, I would want a target that I could reach quickly.«

»This is speculation on my part, Captain, but I believe there might in fact be an Andorian colony in the Expanse.«

»You are kidding?«

»No. We know that the Andorians have had an interest in the Expanse for decades, Captain. Andorian ships have definitely entered it. We have never been able to confirm it, but intelligence strongly suggested that the Andorians had colonized a planet in the Expanse, near the outer rim. We assumed, they would use the outpost to allow their ships to stay in the Expanse for prolonged periods of time.«

»An outpost?«

»So we assumed.«

»How many people would live there?«

»I don't know.«

»Do you know where it is?«

»I don't even know whether it exists, Captain. We found only vague hints that it did.«

»But if it did, Serat would know?«

»He was an Ambassador to Andoria. It would be logical to assume that he has privy to more accurate information.«

»Assuming it does exist, what would he gain by releasing the virus there?«

»I don't know.«

»Wouldn't this act lead to war?«

»It is very likely.«

»But he cannot want that, T'Pol. How would war help anything?«

»I don't know.«

»This theory is very speculative, T'Pol.«

»Yes.«

»Do we have any chance of picking his ship up on sensors?«

»No.«

»Do we have any idea in which direction this colony might be?«

»No.«

»Is there anything we can do, T'Pol? Any idea?«

»No.«

»Great.«

His headache had subsided before, but now it returned with full force.

»I will resume command, Subcommander. I may not be fit for a fist fight, but I can sure sit in my chair on the bridge.«

»Phlox has advi—«

»Forget it, Subcommander. Have Ensign Mayweather set a course to Andoria. If there is a colony, it would be at a point on the rim that's close to their home planet, they would certainly not colonize a planet on the other end of the Expanse.«

»Aye, Captain.«

»Direct full power to the sensors. We will scan for anything, Subcommander. _Anything._ Let's just try it, maybe we'll get lucky.«

»Aye, Captain.«

Captain Archer looked at her for a moment longer.

»Are you all right, T'Pol?«

»I am fine, Captain.«

He wondered what _fine_ meant.

--------

Trip was paralyzed with fear. It was impossible what was happening right now. He stood in his quarters and looked at the ghost of T'Pol. There it was. It stood right before him. It breathed and moved and spoke to him, but it was not T'Pol. She was not here. This ghost had entered his quarters and T'Pol had not come along with it. He could not feel her. He could not see her. Whatever it was, it was a ghost. It could not be real.

His mind was numb. It was impossible to focus on her words. He could not focus on anything. He was cold. Never before had T'Pol's absence been so painful. He longed powerfully for her. His blood rushed in his ears so terrible was it to miss T'Pol. But only the ghost had come.

»… we can only speculate about it. But whatever Serat's motives have been, Charles, he would never have harmed me. It is impossible. It was a mistake to give in. Even _if_, it had still been a mistake. I realize that I carry a significant part of the responsibility, Charles. Your ability to make rational decisions was diminished. The chain of command had been compromised with a private affair. You did not have complete control in that situation — because of me.«

He just looked at her.

»Neither did I have complete control — because of you.«

»T'Pol …«

»This should never have happened, Charles. I realize now that being together with you necessitates that I share your emotions. But this makes me emotional. And being together with me makes you irrational. We cannot do it.«

»T'Pol …«

»We must handle this situation logically, Charles. We must ascertain our options. I realize that breaking up our relationship will hurt you. Is it possible? Can you deal with it?«

Trip realized T'Pol could not feel him either. She did not allow herself to feel anything. She had no idea what he felt, or she would not need to ask that question.

»I don't know.«

»Charles, we should defer the decision until tomorrow. I can see you are in no condition to think rationally. I apologize.«

What difference would it make? Why not end it now? Where was the point in going on with the knowledge it would come either way?

T'Pol looked at him for a moment. Then she turned and walked to door.

»T'Pol.«

She stopped, but did not turn around to face him.

»This is all wrong, T'Pol. What is going on? What has happened? Why do we talk to each other like this?«

»Try to sleep, Commander. Good night.«

TO BE CONTINUED


	7. The Greater Good: Part III

**The Greater Good, Part III**

**Summary:** Sequel to Part II.

--------

It was a disaster.

They _had_ discovered the TALAR's warp trail. They _had_ been able to follow Serat. They _had_ found the Andorian colony. They _had_ located him on the surface. And when they had arrived, it had been too late.

T'Pol felt her control slip.

Everything had gone wrong. Everything had gone so terribly wrong! Serat had released the virus already. He and Charles had fought over the phial containing it, but Serat was too strong, too determined to be stopped. And now the virus was released. They had been too late!

Thoughts raced through T'Pol's head, but they were incoherent. They were thoughts of pure desperation. She found herself unable to deal with them. Would she give in to those emotions now, she would shatter into a million pieces and nothing would ever be able to mend her. So she clutched to her logic like a drowning man will catch at a straw. If she allowed the virus to infect the colony, it would mean war. Andoria would not believe a word of this story, they would see this as an act of aggression. And they would retaliate. Thousands of lives would perish if she allowed the virus to spread. And there was only one way to stop it.

T'Pol aimed the flamethrower at Serat. At her childhood friend. And he knew her so well, even now he understood her better than she did.

»T'Pol, if you choose to kill me to prevent a war, you act exactly the same way I did. I too chose to sacrifice lives for a greater good. For the greater good of Vulcan. We differ only in the end, not in the means. Do you appreciate the irony in that?«

She spoke only two words, but still her voice broke as she spoke them.

»I do.«

She pulled the trigger and sent off a blast of liquid fire at the man she had known for over 60 years. It engulfed him completely. The instant it did, he was just _gone_. All she saw was fire, all she felt was heat, and all she smelt was death.

After an eternity she released the trigger and looked the spot where her friend had been standing only seconds ago. There was nothing left of him.

She turned and aimed the flamethrower at Charles.

»What are you doing, T'Pol?«

She closed her eyes. His voice had shock-frozen her. She was completely made of ice, there was no life left in her. She had died even before he would. But there was nothing she could do. He might think she had a choice, but she had not. She opened her eyes again and studied the man she had loved. She noticed how his shirt had been torn at the arm, when he had been caught in some branches. She noticed how his trousers were dirty from walking through the wetland of the colony. For one last time she looked at his face. In a brief moment, all this would be gone. There would be nothing left of him but ashes. She swallowed hard.

T'Pol wanted to say something to Charles. She wanted to say she was sorry. But she knew, if she did, if she spoke to him now, she would fall apart. She could not allow that to happen. So she once more took aim and placed her forefinger on the trigger of the weapon.

But before she had fired, a strange noise startled her. She dared not to lower the weapon as she looked to her right side and saw a figure materializing. It was Phlox, and he was wearing an EV suit. She turned her eyes back on her target. On Charles. She kept her aim. She knew, she would never be able to aim at him again if she lowered the weapon now. She could not allow it.

»T'Pol?« Phlox spoke to her. His voice sounded strange through the speaker of his helmet. »Don't do anything foolish, please, will you? I will inject Commander Tucker with the antidote.«

Slowly the Denobulan approached Charles and put the hypospray to his neck. It injected the anti-virus with a soft _swoosh_. Charles did not move. He had not moved all the time. He didn't even blink, but kept his blue eyes fixed on her. There was no warmth in them. They were cold.

Finally Charles moved. He took one step after another towards her, seemingly not even registering the fact that she still had a flamethrower aimed at him. T'Pol could not move.

When Charles stood right in front of her, he stopped and looked straight into her eyes. He leaned in even closer. Another inch, and his clothes would have caught fire on the weapon. His eyes were _so cold_!

For the first time in her life, T'Pol truly understood how he must have felt around her. She so much needed him to be warm; she no much needed him to give her an emotion — ANY emotion! She so much needed him to show her something that proved he still lived. To prove _she_ still lived! But his face was a mask. Impassionate. Blank. Like hers had been all those years. He spoke.

»You may think you did _not_ kill me just now, T'Pol. But you know what? You did. I am dead. And you are dead for me as well. Whatever we had together … it is dead now.«

Then he turned around and walked away.

--------

T'Pol jerked violently into a sitting position and screamed from the bottom of her lungs. She was in tatters, she had no idea where she was. Like a trapped animal she felt searing panic. She turned her head left, right, left again, but she didn't see anything. She only felt — and all she felt was panic. Then finally she realized that she was in her quarters. She was in her bed. It had not been real! Charles lived! But the knowledge didn't help. The emotions simply washed her away.

Her last conscious action was to throw her face into the pillow, she pressed her face against it, and then she screamed once more. She screamed into her pillow until she had no air left and collapsed on the bed. Then she just lay there and shook like a leaf.

--------

Trip jumped out of the chair he had been sitting in when he heard the door chime. He did not dare to hope, but when the door opened, there she stood! But his heart stopped beating the moment he saw her face.

»Will you still care fo—«

By instinct he reached for her and pulled her into the room. Her left hand flew up to his right, immediately their hands found each other, and when their palms touched, their fingers interlocked with force.

Trip lost consciousness instantaneously.

--------

Was he dead?

Trip sure wished he _would_ be dead, because whatever it felt like, it had to be better than this. Someone had slammed a brick over his head. At least a dozen times.

What had happened?

Had he been flogged? He felt HORRIBLE!

He tried to move. But whether he succeeded or not he could not tell. His whole body was put together wrong. Nothing fit, everything itched and burned.

The attempt to move had awakened his mind. He regretted it. The pain only grew more intense. It was everywhere. Every fiber of his body and his mind seared with pain.

Where was this horrible noise coming from?

He lost consciousness again.

--------

Where was he?

Trip couldn't remember anything. The last thing he knew was that T'Pol had come to his quarters. He remembered touching her. But what had happened then?

Where was she?

He had no words to describe how he felt. His mind was raw. He was hypersensitive to even the slightest sound. Just a stir in the air around him caused him discomfort and irritation. His body felt no different. It felt, as if every bone in his body had been broken. His shoulders had snapped out of their joints. He could not swallow. His neck felt wrong. He couldn't even feel his legs.

What had happened?

Very, very slowly Trip opened his eyes. He realized that T'Pol was still there. They were still in his quarters. They lay on the floor. He had his arms wrapped around her upper body. He noticed how powerfully his arms pulled her against him. Her right arm was wrapped around his neck. He noticed how powerfully she pulled his face towards hers, how their cheeks pressed against another. Where was her other arm?

He blinked and tried to focus. Where was it? He tried to lock his gaze on her left shoulder. It took him a while. Then he followed her arm with his eyes. It was in front of her, between them. Carefully he tried to move his head, to see where it went, but T'Pol held him like vice. He could not move. Following an impulse he relaxed his own right arm and carefully moved his hand upwards to her shoulder behind her, so that he could see it. Her left arm followed the movement slightly.

She had held on! They had held on! Their hands were white from the pressure, but they had not let go!

T'Pol stirred in his arms. She made a long drawn-out keening sound and pain hit him like a jackhammer. He lost consciousness once more.

--------

When Trip awoke for the third time, he knew where he was. The immense agony was still there. Why did it not subside? Why had he to feel so much pain?

His mind searched for T'Pol, but there was nothing. He could see her in his arms, but he didn't feel her.

That could not be right?

He tried to ignore the pain for only a moment, so that he could focus, but it was impossible.

Slowly an idea formed in his mind. He loosened his hold around T'Pol, so that he could move his left arm. Carefully he placed the fingers of his left hand on the back of her neck and drew the fingertips downwards along her spine.

He could feel it!

He could feel her!

All these emotions, all these sensations, all this pain … it was all hers!

He had not lost her!

Instinctively his arms contracted around her. If it was possible, then he held her even more tightly than before. He would NEVER EVER let go. He gave in to the pain, he focused on the sensations, he drew every bit of it in. It meant absolutely nothing to him that it hurt, he wanted to feel her, no matter what it was!

Oh, she felt so HORRIBLE!

He lost himself completely in her pain, in her desperation, in her confusion. Anything as long as it came from her.

It broke his heart how terrible she felt, and he began to cry. He wouldn't even try to stop, he just cried, and cried, and cried. He cried for her.

--------

»Charles?«

»I am here.«

»I am so sorry!«

»I know.«

»Why do such horrible things happen to us, Charles? Why? Why?«

»I don't know, T'Pol.«

»I don't understand it, Charles. Why? Why us? Why has this happened? Why are we on this mission of destruction? Why did he do it?«

»I do not know, T'Pol.«

»I cannot exist like this, Charles! It is impossible! Why do I get hurt all the time? Why do you get hurt all the time? Where is the logic in that? Why is this necessary?«

»I will care for you, T'Pol.«

»I am so sorry, Charles!«

»I know.«

--------

»How can you deal with these emotions, Charles? How can you live with feeling like this?«

»I have no other choice, T'Pol.«

»I cannot do it, Charles. It is impossible!«

»We will share the emotions, T'Pol.«

»I do not understand it! I know him for all my life, Charles. For over 60 years we have been friends. We are so alike. We have always been so similar! He always understood me so well. And now I realize I do not understand him it all! How is this possible?«

»He has changed.«

»It is wrong. It is just wrong! This should not have happened, he should not have done this. And just thinking about what he might do drives me insane, Charles. I advised the Captain to meet him, I brought him aboard. I was the one he used to extort the virus … I am _reponsible_, Charles.«

»No, T'Pol. Serat is responsible.«

»It cannot be that simple. That cannot be the whole truth, Charles. So many factors go into the equation, so many coincidences have happened, it is just _impossible_ that anyone can be responsible for this alone.«

»Serat chose to do what he did, T'Pol. You didn't make that choice.«

»I didn't even have a choice to make, Charles. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it!

»Then why do you feel guilty?«

»I don't know. I am so confused. I have no control at all, Charles.«

»I will care for you, T'Pol.«

»Is all control an illusion, Charles? Have we absolutely no way to influence what happens around us? Why do things keep happening _to_ us? Why can't we control our own _lives_?«

»I don't believe life is meant to be controlled, T'Pol.«

»But that cannot be right. There just _has_ to be order somewhere. There simply _has_ to be something you can rely on!«

»You can rely on me, T'Pol.«

»I know.«

For a moment, their minds were silent.

»I have realized what the significance of the calligraphy is, T'Pol. I know why we wear it.«

»Is that true?«

»Yes. We wear it because we hold on to each other, T'Pol. Even when it hurts.«

For a split second, Trip felt tiniest bit of mirth.

»You should have bet me a favor for this insight, Charles. You might have actually won.«

He knew she would be all right.

--------

»I realize I have chosen exile. I cannot go back. I have changed.«

»If you could go back, would you want to?«

»I no longer know what the right path is. I realize there might not even be one. For the longest time I thought Serat and I were going the same path, Charles. Now I have learned that it has lead him to irrationality and violence.«

»Then you were not going the same path, T'Pol.«

»Were we not? Have I not defied the High Command like he did? Have I not chosen exile like he did? The turning points of our lives are identical, Charles.«

»You are an entirely different person than Serat is, T'Pol. You cannot assume that similar events in your lives mean that you will also become irrational and violent.«

»I am irrational in this very moment, Charles!«

»You are not _irrational_, T'Pol. You are emotional.«

»I don't see any difference.«

»There is a huge difference. Had Serat allowed himself to feel his emotions, it would have been impossible for him to threaten your life, T'Pol. He was your friend for over 60 years! It would have been _impossible_.«

»Then he would have used a different plan, Charles. I don't see the significance.«

»My point is: You should not assume that emotions will always influence your decisions for the worse. Serat could have never made _this_ decision, had he listened to his emotions. They had influenced him for the better.«

»How do you know when to trust your emotions?«

»I don't know it, T'Pol. I feel it.«

»I don't know how to feel what is right or wrong, Charles. I only know logic.«

»Then perhaps you should listen to my advice from time to time, T'Pol.«

»I will start right after this one, Charles.«

»Suit yourself. Become irrational, if that's what you want.«

»Even if your advice does — against all expectations — _not_ lead into irrationality, Charles, then it will certainly lead into mayhem.«

»Still better than violence.«

»Barely.«

»So you see the logic?«

»I will _consider_ your advice, Charles.«

--------

This virus was very fascinating. Serat had determined that the specimen must have undergone several mutations from the original design. There was no telling how many generations had lead to this result. It was very unfortunate the original virus was lost. By comparing the original version with this one, a lot of insight could have been gathered. Clearly the mutations would affect the beings produced by the virus. Strictly speaking, the resulting species was no longer a Loque'eque. Although the genetic material was, of course, mostly identical to the Loque'eque, the variation was significant enough to speak of a new race. This virus itself had _changed_ to become what it was now. And what was a microscopic change for the virus was a significant change for the species it produced. Wasn't that curious?

Serat appreciated the symbolism of this discovery. It was very fitting. Doctor Phlox would be interested in these results; if it was possible, Serat would see to it that he got the data.

There was, however, one side-effect of the mutation that was unfortunate for his plans. The virus had mutated specifically so that it would affect humans better. It was only logical, it was gathered from the infected crew members. He should have anticipated that. Serat was certain that the virus could still perform the transformation once it reached an Andorian host. The Andorians did not have the mechanisms the Vulcan immune system used to kill the virus. It would survive in its host and multiply.

But it could not spread.

This was a serious problem. Serat could infect an Andorian host, harvest the multiplied viruses, and use them to infect new hosts, but that was far too complicated. It was a prolonged operation. He might be able to short-cut the infection phase by introducing the virus into to the water supply, but this was very risky. The Andorians had sophisticated technology, the contamination might be discovered before the virus even reached the hosts.

The only way to infect the colony in a sufficiently short period of time was to have an infectious host. A human. The viruses that had multiplied in the human host _were_ able to spread by air.

So the solution was to find a human host, infect him, and simply keep him near the colony for several hours. He would have to account for wind directions and other factors, but that wouldn't be a problem. He didn't need to infect everyone, several hundred Andorians would suffice.

So he would have to acquire an ENTERPRISE crew member.

It was a serious complication.

--------

»We could contact the Andorian colony and warn them.«

»No, Charles. We don't know where it is. We don't even know whether there _is_ a colony.«

»We will find his warp trail.«

»We have already lost his warp trail.«

»Maybe we'll be lucky?«

»I appreciate your effort, Charles. But denying the facts will not help.«

»How do you know we will not find him, T'Pol?«

»We are on a mission to prevent the destruction of Earth, Charles. We have no time to search for him. We have no trail. We have no idea what he plans to do. How could we possibly find him?«

»By luck?«

»Don't be childish, Charles.«

»_Archer to Commander Tucker._«

»Yes, Captain?«

»_Is Subcommander T'Pol with you?_«

»I am here, Captain.«

»_You should both come to the bridge. We have just had a blip on sensors, and it might have been the TALAR._«

--------

The senior officers had assembled in the situation room.

»How certain are we, Subcommander?«

»The sensor data strongly suggests a vessel traveling at warp 3.3, Captain. It is very unlikely that a natural phenomenon could emit this kind of signature. The speed and size of the vessel would match the TALAR. So would the ship's position, if we assume it has been traveling at this speed ever since it left ENTERPRISE.«

»Any idea where it is headed?«

Travis answered that question: »If we extrapolate the course in a straight line, Captain, then the ship is headed for a planet near the outer rim of the Expanse.«

»Is the planet suitable for supporting humanoid life?«

»We cannot tell at this distance, Sir.«

»When will the ship reach the planet? How fast can we reach it?«

»At maximum warp we could reach it in 12 hours, Sir. Approximately 7 minutes after the TALAR would reach it.«

Archer considered the situation for a moment. It was a detour. But he could not stand back and do nothing.

Lieutenant Reed spoke: »Could we contact the colony? Warn them that Serat is coming?«

»This might not be a good idea, Lieutenant.« T'Pol answered. »If we inform the Andorians that the former Ambassador from Vulcan is headed for their colony with plans to attack them with biological warfare, they will certainly assume he was backed by the High Command. The diplomatic fallout could be significant. Significant enough to provoke hostilities.«

Trip said: »But at same point we will have no other choice, Subcommander. If we cannot stop him, then we _must_ inform them.«

»Subcommander,« Captain Archer said, »how much time would Serat need to prepare once he has reached the colony? How fast can he unleash the virus?«

»Theoretically, he could set the virus free by using a transporting device. He could simply transport it into a suitably crowded place in the colony. It would take only seconds.«

»Great. Then we have no chance of stopping him at all, Subcommander.«

»Not necessarily, Captain. If the Andorian colony is in fact on that planet, the Andorians would certainly protect it with energy shielding. It would not be possible to transport anything in to or out of that colony directly. Neither can he simply approach the colony openly. He must reach the surface without being discovered. This also takes time.«

»Alright. Ensign Mayweather, set a course for the planet. Maximum warp.«

»Aye, Sir.«

»Ensign Sato, you better prepare a communique for the Andorians. Just in case. Include all the medical data we have. Phlox can help you with that. Let T'Pol go through it once you have a draft.«

»Aye, Captain.«

»Phlox, _if_ Serat manages to release the virus, what would happen?«

»The virus is very aggressive, Captain. It spreads by air, infected hosts become infectious almost instantaneously … In a small colony where many people live in little space, it could affect the whole population within minutes.«

»Any chance the Andorians might be immune? Like Vulcans are?«

»No, Captain. I doubt they would be immune.«

»Can you manufacture the antidote in large quantities?«

»I could, Captain. But it wouldn't help. It is not sufficient to kill the virus in the host's body. The antidote is actually a true _anti virus_, because it has to reverse the transformation.«

»And?«

»The anti virus must specifically match the virus in the host's body. The virus, however, mutates quite quickly. I need blood samples from the infected host before I can do anything. You know how difficult the healing process was, Captain.«

»So you cannot produce the anti virus in advance?«

»No. Neither can I cure a large number of people, Captain. I need to treat everyone individually.«

»Great.« Archer frowned. »So if the virus gets out, we cannot cure them?«

»No. Certainly not everyone.«

For a long moment they were all silent.

»Any other ideas what we could do?«

There was none.

»Then let's hope we can stop him before he reaches the surface.«

--------

»Computer, power up the sensor distortion field.«

»_Distortion field engaged._«

»Computer, go to maximum warp.«

--------

Lieutenant Reed addressed the senior officers in the situation room.

»About half an hour ago we came into sensor range. We were able to get a few detailed scans of a large site on the planet. It has obviously been colonized.«

On the main screen, several images from the sensors were shown. Lieutenant Reed pointed at a large, circular blank spot in the image.

»This area of the surface appears to be protected by energy shielding, our sensors cannot penetrate it. Furthermore, the whole larger area seems to be protected by a second energy field, a distortion field. Had we not specifically scanned for the site, we would probably not have discovered it.«

Reed gave the others a moment to study to sensor data before he went on.

»The size of the blank spot suggests a colony with at least several thousand inhabitants. It might be fewer, but I doubt they would waste energy to shield ground that is uninhabited.«

»Lieutenant, how certain are you that the blank spot actually _is_ a colony, and not a natural phenomenon?«

»We have found several spots in the larger area where cabins have been erected. Most of the spots seem to important for geological studies of the planet. It appears, the inhabitants have been studying the surroundings — perhaps in preparation of terra-forming the area.«

»Cabins?«

»Yes, Captain. Our sensors cannot pick up much detail through the energy field, but it looks like small wooden cabins meant to store technical equipment. Maybe they even provide living space for longer studies? They are spread all throughout the area.«

»How many are there?«

»Over 300, Captain. At least. Obviously the area is populated.«

»I agree. And one of these cabins would obviously be a perfect place to hide a small laboratory, where Serat could work and prepare for his strike.«

»Exactly my thoughts, Captain. With your permission, we would like to focus all sensors on mapping the area as accurately as possible.«

»Agreed, Lieutenant. Keep us informed on any progress you make.«

--------

»We will reach the colony in 18 minutes, Captain.«

»Thank you, Travis.« He turned back to face the senior officers. »This means we will have to decide what to do, Lieutenant Reed.«

Reed answered: »I think we have something, Captain. The sensors picked up traces of several complex compounds in this valley. There is no indication of research activity going on at this particular spot — it is, however, ideal to land a shuttle pod in, because it's largely hidden from the main site. And the traces are very fresh …«

»You mean, Serat could have landed there?«

»Yes, Captain. There is one cabin north and one cabin south of the valley. Both are almost exactly 3 kilometers afar from the presumed landing site. He could have brought technical equipment into either of these cabins, and then would have returned to hide the shuttle.«

»Two cabins, and both are equally likely to be chosen?«

»Curious, isn't it?«

»That's why I thought.«

T'Pol simply remarked: »It would fit.«

»We could land with a shuttle pod at the same site and send out a team to either cabin, Captain. Even if he isn't there, maybe the virus is?«

Captain Archer thought about this plan for a moment. It was risky. Very risky. If something went wrong, then Earth would be drawn into this conflict. By going down on that planet, they became directly involved. Warning the Andorians, however, might achieve exactly the same outcome. It was a horrible dilemma.

»We will do it. That's a lot better than sitting here with our hands folded in our lap. Shuttlepod One can take five persons down … Trip, T'Pol, you are senior officers. You may pick the cabin you are going to investigate. Mister Reed and Mister Hayes will have to take the other one. Sorry, Gentlemen.«

»Don't worry, Captain.« said Hayes. Reed didn't even react to Archer's attempt at humor.

»Travis, you will fly the pod and stay with it on the surface. You'll make sure you get those four out of there as soon as something goes wrong, right?«

»Aye, Captain. I will.«

»Nothing will go wrong, Captain.« Trip reminded everybody.

--------

T'Pol tried to calm Captain Archer down.

»We will be careful, Captain. You should not be concerned.«

»I have a bad feeling about this. Why don't you want to wear EV suits?«

»We can hardly move in EV suits, Captain. They would slow us down significantly.«

Travis' voice was heard from inside the shuttle: »We have to depart in 3 minutes, guys. Let's get inside.«

»T'Pol, you all are extremely careful down there, alright? At even the slightest hint of trouble I want to know about it. And I want you to retreat and come back.«

»Aye, Captain.«

Archer took a step back and watched his senior officers disappear in the shuttle pod. He hated the fact that he could not go down there, but his shoulder had not recovered yet. It would have been foolish. Now his friends would do it. And he would have to sit up here and hide from the Andorian sensors. Great. He knew he wouldn't rest for a second until they were back on the ship.

--------

T'Pol stepped out of the shuttle pod first. She looked around on the planet. It looked bleak. The green-brownish wetland was comfortless for the eye. Despite the abundance of water, the vegetation was sparse. The air seemed to be gray, because the force fields protecting the colony interfered with the sunlight. The winds were harsh and cold. It was no inviting place. Certainly not for a Vulcan.

She forced her thoughts into order. She needed to be focused now.

»Gentlemen, we meet back here in one hour. Unless either party makes a significant discovery, we will keep radio silence. If you do spot Serat, do not approach him, do not engage him, but inform the Captain. Understood?«

»Aye, Subcommander.« Reed and Hayes replied almost with one voice. The two men put the straps attached to their flamethrowers over their shoulders, turned, and began to march into the north.

T'Pol turned to Trip. We was still checking his flamethrower, to make sure it wouldn't malfunction. Before that, he had checked hers too.

--------

»Shit.«

T'Pol stopped marching immediately and turned to Trip. »What's the matter?«

»Nothing. Just got caught in some branches. I was in thoughts and—«

A massive flash of fear interrupted him in mid-sentence.

T'Pol looked at Trip and realized she had seen this picture before. The way his trousers were dirty from walking in the wetland, the way his shirt was torn, the exhausted expression on his face … And then she looked down at herself and saw the flamethrower she was carrying.

»No, T'Pol, don't give in to fear! Please, calm down.«

But she could not calm down. He would die!

»T'Pol, listen to me. Fear is _no good_. It won't help you nor me, it will only paralyze you. Do not be afraid!«

»I have seen this before, Charles. I have had a nightmare about this happen—«

»T'Pol. Listen to yourself. Just forget it. It's coincidence. Come here.«

They took a few steps towards another and he embraced her carefully with one arm.

»We will get through this together, T'Pol. And we will get out of it together too. Don't be afraid. I will care for you, I promise.«

And for a second he could see her smile under the surface.

»It's much more likely that I will have to care for you, Charles. I am the secret agent after all.«

»So you will take care of me? You promise?«

All playfulness had left T'Pol's voice.

»I promise.«

Then they turned and resumed their march to the southern cabin.

It began to rain in tiny drops.

--------

The cabin had been entered recently. T'Pol could see trails in the mud where the door had been opened. But the windows were dark, nobody seemed to be in there. She gestured for Charles to follow her. She directed their approach to the cabin so that they arrived in a blind angle to the windows.

They pressed their backs flat against the walls as they approached one of the windows from the side. T'Pol moved carefully and looked into the room. It was empty. There was nothing in there.

She stopped for a moment, then spoke softly to Charles.

»It is empty.«

»Empty?«

»Yes.«

»Let's look inside.«

They continued their way along the wall to the entrance and found the door unlocked. T'Pol opened it, peered into the room, and then walked inside. It was empty. Charles followed her into the room. He heard a strange noise and his world blurred out of focus.

T'Pol also heard the noise. She spun around only to see Charles disappear in a transporter beam. Then he was gone.

T'Pol immediately saw the device that was attached to the top of the door frame. They had ran into a trap!

Why wasn't she transported away? Why Charles?

--------

Serat had nothing more to do but to wait for the human to appear. He would have preferred to have some monitoring equipment in place, but he had found the risk of discovery to be too great. Fortunately there was ample opportunity to keep the mind occupied. He had looked into the human physiology, naturally, and he had learned a lot.

With a _swoosh_ a human figure materialized in his cabin, tumbled, and fell unconscious. It had worked. Serat got up from his desk to take a look at the human. It was the most curious coincidence, he thought. Commander Tucker. How incredible.

He began to prepare him for the necessary injections.

--------

Reed was amazed how focused T'Pol sounded through the communicator. After what she had told him, he would have expected her to sound concerned! But her mind seemed to work perfectly clear. It was amazing.

»No, Subcommander. We have found the cabin empty. Hayes is checking the door frame again just now, but we discovered nothing unusual.«

»_This was a trap, Lieutenant. Serat needed a Human. Not a Vulcan — a Human. It is obviously related to the virus. He needs a host. And now he has one._«

He had Trip! Not a _host_.

»What are we going to do, Subcommander?«

»_The range of the device is less than 20 kilometers. Check out potential target sites in the vicinity, Lieutenant. I will do the same here. We will invest one hour to find Commander Tucker. Then we must retreat._«

Reed swallowed.

»We will hurry, Subcommander.«

--------

Serat wondered how best to proceed. The Human's body would begin to produce viruses in approximately 2 minutes. Then he would need another injection to inhibit the transformation process. He did not want T'Pol's chosen one to turn into a Loque'eque. She would not appreciate it, it would be unpolite.

The additional injections would make the Commander weak. He would need to rest at least half an hour. It was a serious complication. Serat calculated the odds of discovery in his head. They were significant. Once more he looked at the sleeping Human.

No.

He would wait. The Human was very important for T'Pol. Once his physiology had had time to recover, he could walk him to the spot he had found to be the most efficient for having the virus spread into the colony. He should even be able to observe successes from this spot. If the wind directions changed, then he would have to improvise. Obviously, there was always the alternative of actually entering the colony. There was a popular market place on this side. But Serat preferred not to enter it. Once a certain number of Andorians had been transformed, the situation in there would become unstable.

Serat began to prepare the second injection.

--------

T'Pol realized that she would never find Charles by searching the cabins in the vicinity methodically. Serat knew that they would search for him. He would move, he would disappear. Either she found him right away, or she would not find him at all.

There were 8 potential targets. Serat and Charles could be in any one of those cabins — or they could be somewhere altogether different. She had no idea.

She realized that logic could not help her make this decision.

So she closed her eyes and looked at the map of the area in her mind. She studied the map for the hundredth time. And then she followed an impulse, picked one cabin, opened her eyes, and began to sprint into its direction. She carried the flamethrower with one hand as if it weighed nothing.

She ran the 16.2 kilometers with inhuman speed.

--------

»Greetings, Commander Tucker.«

Charles was disoriented and weak. He sat up on the pallet he was lying on and tried to compose himself. What had happened?

»Don't be alarmed, Commander. You will feel weak because of the medication I gave you. But you are not in danger.«

»Serat?«

»Yes, Commander.«

»What are you doing? What am _I_ doing here?«

»I need your assistance, Commander. The assistance of your human physiology, to be accurate.«

Trip looked around in the room. His mind was numb, but he realized immediately that he would need a weapon if he wanted to overpower the Vulcan. He wondered where his flamethrower was.

»Commander, it makes no difference for me whether your are conscious or not. But stunning you …« He made sure Trip saw the phaser he had attached to his belt. »… would endanger your health in this state. If you force me, however, I will not hesitate. Please do not do anything illogical.«

Trip leaned his back against the wall and massaged his temples.

»You plan to kill thousands of people and tell me not to do anything _illogical_, Serat? You must be joking.«

»I am not killing anyone, Commander. I merely bring change.«

»That's bullshit, Serat. Once you've released the virus, the infected individuals cease to exist. You killed them.«

»This is a very subjective assessment, Commander. The individuals do not cease to exist. They simply exist in a different state.«

»A state in which the original individual is _gone_, Serat.«

»No, Commander. The result of the transformation is still an individual, only a different one.«

»That's semantics, Serat. That doesn't make your decision to interfere with their lives any less like murder.«

»You may perceive it as murder, Commander. But I do not. They will live on.«

»The act of _killing_ is not something you can perceive this way or another way, Serat. It is a fact.«

»The Vulcan High-Command has been offered a treatment for the Pa'nar Syndrome repeatedly, Commander Tucker. That is a fatal disease I have contracted. But they chose to ignore the offer — for completely bizarre and illogical reasons. As a result, my illness has not been treated and I will die shortly, even though I could have lived. Is this murder, Commander?«

»So this is what this is all about? You want your revenge?«

»Please consider my question, Commander. Is it murder to withhold medication and treatment from a citizen of your society?«

»It may be wrong, but it is definitely not murder, Serat.«

»Is it not? The Andorians will live on as Loque'eque. I, however, will not live on. I will die. Even though I could have lived for another century or more. And this is the direct result of the High Commands actions.«

»Even if the High Command has _murdered_ you — and I find the idea absurd, honestly — it still doesn't justify the crime you are about to commit, Serat.«

»I don't mean to justify my actions, Commander. I merely wished to illustrate that the concept of killing a being is not as simple and straightforward to interpret as you make it sound.«

»How about the consequences of your little plan here? I understand that this incident may lead to _war_, Serat. Does this not involve people being killed?«

»It does, but I am not the one responsible for that, Commander.«

»Of course you are! You are making it happen with what you are doing right now.«

»Commander, I trigger _change_. Nothing more, nothing less. The decision of whether a war will be fought because of this is made by different people. It is not my decision.«

»How convenient.«

»Commander, you seem to believe that my actions are what is causing the war. But that is not accurate. Andorians and Vulcans have been preparing for this war for decades. They have steered towards war ever since the first colony dispute. I am not responsible for the abundance of weapons they have built and are now itching to use. I am not responsible for the spy arrays they have constructed as a poor replacement for dialogue.«

»So war would really have happened anyway and you just speed things up, right? That is what you are saying?«

»No, Commander. I am saying that the Vulcan society is in a horrible state. The High Command has reached a point where building weapons to destroy others is more important than caring about the welfare of its own citizens. It is not just the problem of withholding medication for the Pa'nar Syndrome, Commander. Just think of all the lives that have been lost in pointless border disputes! This is fundamentally wrong. It is a breach of contract between society and the individual. The individual gives up rights to be part of society so that he or she is taken care of. If society no longer cares, then there is no point in belonging to a society.«

»This is mad, Serat.«

»No, it is logic, Commander. You were right, war is inevitable. The Vulcan High-Command seems to crave it. Why else would they build so many weapons? There must be change, or my species may not survive.«

»This insane act will not help your species survive, Serat.«

»How do you know? Have not all great achievements of peace been preceded by great wars? Is it not the same with Human history?«

»That doesn't mean war is the only way to achieve peace.«

»My concern is not war, Commander. My concern is changing a society that threatens to become fascist. My insane act, as you put it, is only the logical consequence of the situation I am in. I have no other choice.«

»You could choose not to release the virus, Serat.«

»How would that help the Vulcan people?«

»For starters, it would help avoiding a war right now.«

»Would it? Or wouldn't it rather help keeping a system in power that steers into war?«

Trip threw his hands up in frustration.

»Let me ask you another question, Serat. Do you realize how much you have hurt T'Pol?«

»I am doing this for T'Pol, Commander. I have no chance of seeing a better Vulcan in my lifetime, but she has.«

»You have put a phaser to her head for her benefit?«

»I bring change for her benefit. And for the benefit of others, Commander. I crave a society that treats Pa'nar Syndrome rather than building weapons.«

Serat studied the Human. Clearly he did not understand him. He wondered whether the Human even knew T'Pol had contracted the Pa'nar Syndrome too. But if he did not, then it was not his place to tell him.

»I wish I could explain my reasons better, Commander. I wish you would see the logic, so that you could help T'Pol understand it. It would help her control her emotions regarding my choice. I do not wish to hurt her.«

»Perhaps the reason why you cannot explain yourself, Serat, is that your actions don't make any sense?«

»No, Commander. The reason is that I have needed all my life to make those deductions. I have vastly different knowledge and experiences than you have. It would need far more time than a few hours to explain everything to you.«

»I am all ears.«

»We do not have the time. As a matter of fact …« Serat turned and picked up a hypospray from his desk. »… it is time for another injection. Would you please take this, Commander?«

»No way.«

»Commander, this hypospray contains a chemical compound that will inhibit the transformation process. T'Pol would not wish you to turn into a Loque'eque. It does, however, not make any difference for my plans. So you may decide what you prefer.«

Trip looked at the offered hypospray and thought about it. He would not assist Serat in any way. But if Serat was telling the truth, then refusing the injection would not help either. He had no chance of overpowering him if he turned into a Loque'eque.

And, to be perfectly honest, he was also afraid of it.

So he took the hypospray, placed it on the side of his neck, and pressed the button that would trigger the injection. He heard a soft _swoosh_. Then his lids grew heavy.

--------

Serat looked at the sleeping human. He looked peaceful. Serat wondered whether it would be best to carry him to the target location, rather than walking with him. He appeared to be determined to interfere with his plans. Besides, he could not wait much longer, and the Commander would probably not regain consciousness for—

»Please move away from Charles, Serat.«

He blinked. Was this possible? He turned his head, looked back over his shoulder and saw T'Pol. She was thoroughly soaked and dirty from running through the wetland. Her uniform was covered in mud, as were her hands and face. Her wet hair clung to her head. She was carrying a flamethrower.

He assessed his options. T'Pol would not allow him to proceed. It was obvious. All possible solutions to continue his plan nonetheless involved hurting her.

No.

Hurting T'Pol was not an option. He had failed.

A powerful weight fell off Serat. He could not explain it, but suddenly he felt free. He could not control the emotion because he couldn't comprehend it: T'Pol had spoiled his plans, ruined his life's final achievement, yet he was happy to see her.

»He merely sleeps, T'Pol. Please be careful with that weapon. If you fire it in the room, you will necessarily hurt your chosen one. I will not resist. Let us go outside.«

T'Pol looked at him for a moment. She appeared to be uncertain what to do. But then logic got the upper hand and she lowered the weapon, turned around, and walked outside. Serat followed her.

In silence they walked a few meters away from the cabin, into the wetland. The wind blew into their faces as they walked, it was an eerie atmosphere. The world was silent except for the wind and the rain. At no point in particular they simply stopped walking and stood there for a moment longer.

»How did you find me, T'Pol?«

»By luck.«

»I beg your pardon?«

»I simply picked the cabin I would have chosen, Serat. I had no idea where you were.«

Serat looked at her with open astonishment. This was one of the most outrageous ideas he had ever heard.

»By _luck_?«

»Yes.«

Clearly it had worked. Amazing! He wished he would have more time to discuss this matter with T'Pol. It appeared, she had begun to use intuitive thought processes, like the Humans did. If that were true, then she had transcended logic! It was very remarkable.

Serat realized that T'Pol had truly grown ever since he saw her the last time. She had changed. He found comfort in this thought.

»While studying the human physiology, T'Pol, I have made an interesting discovery. I am certain Humans and Vulcans can reproduce.««

»Is that true?«

»There is no indication the genoms would be incompatible, T'Pol. It might very well be possible that you could conceive naturally. With medical assistance, it will definitely be possible.«

T'Pol thought about this information for a while.

»You and Commander Tucker are able to bring change, T'Pol. You can find entirely new combinations, you can bring new diversity into the universe. Literally.«

»By having a child?«

»Yes. Isn't that wonderfully obvious? I realize your path is better than mine, T'Pol. And the thought gives me an odd sense of satisfaction. You will succeed where I have failed.«

Once more they were silent. Serat looked at his childhood friend. He wondered what he should do now. Going back to Vulcan was not an option. He only had a few more months to live, there was little he could achieve with this time if he was captured and imprisoned now. He realized, he had no choice. He would have to complete this path now and here.

So he reached for the phaser on his belt.

»What are you doing, Serat?«

»I will terminate my life now, T'Pol. I have no other choice.«

»That doesn't make any sense, Serat. Suicide is illogical.«

»No, T'Pol. Suicide is the narcistic victory of the subject over its environment. It is logical for the subject.«

T'Pol looked at her childhood friend. She did not want him to die. But what was the alternative? She could not stop him. She had no answers for him. What could she possibly say to change his mind?

She him saw raise his right hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting.

»Live long and prosper, Agent T'Pol. For the Greater Good of Vulcan.«

And T'Pol realized she had no choice. She would respect his. She raised her left hand to return the gesture.

»For Vulcan, Agent Serat.«

For almost a minute they stood there perfectly still. They defied the heavy winds with their wills. Finally Serat lowered his right hand, took the phaser in it, placed it at his own chest, and fired. He was dead instantaneously.

T'Pol activated her weapon and used it to burn his lifeless remains. Then she stepped back and observed how the wind carried his ashes away. She watched the wind spread his ashes over the wetland of the alien world. She fought hard to suppress her sadness.

--------

»T'Pol?«

She turned her head towards the entrance of the cabin. Charles had awakened! He stumbled through the door and out into the open.

»Charles! Are you all right?«

Then he stopped.

»I am infectious, T'Pol.«

T'Pol looked at him blankly while her mind tried to understand what he had told her. A strange energy built up inside of her while her brain wrestled with the implications. Slowly, very slowly the meaning became clear, and then her whole world exploded into one single painful thought: »_NO!_«

She broke into sweat immediately. With barely controlled panic she handled the flamethrower to free her hand, so that she could get the communicator. She flicked it open, activated it, and practically yelled into the device.

»T'Pol to ENTERPRISE, transport Doctor Phlox down with the antidote immediately!«

Lieutenant Reed answered after a short moment.

»_Subcommander, the colony is protected by an energy shield. We cannot transport anything down. You know that._«

She simply dropped the communicator to the ground when her world exploded again: »_NO! NO!_«

--------

Even at the distance Trip could feel powerful flashes of pain from T'Pol. They were so intense that he became disoriented again. He had almost lost his balance and collapsed, but then the pain subsided. And T'Pol's presence subsided along with the pain.

Then came the _real_ pain: He missed T'Pol.

--------

The effort it had required to suppress these emotions could only be described as _inhuman_. T'Pol knew she had to make a decision. And she would have to make it now, because she was certain she would lose consciousness soon.

The facts. Commander Tucker was infectious. His body produced probably thousands of viruses per minute and released them. These viruses could survive in the air for a prolonged period of time. Would one single virus find an Andorian host, it would infect him and reproduce. And then it would spread again. If Charles infected _one_ other being on this planet, it could wipe out the entire colony.

Any incident would necessarily have serious repercussions for the relations between Vulcan and Andoria. Which meant almost certainly war. Thousands of colonists would die here today, and millions of Vulcans and Andorians would follow because of it.

There was only one logical conclusion.

T'Pol aimed the flamethrower at Charles.

--------

Trip looked at her. It broke his heart how she felt. He didn't need any telepathic links or mind melds to see it. He could see it in her eyes. It was the most unsettling sight he had ever looked upon. He realized that this might be the decision that would break her. This might be the event that would push her over the edge.

He closed his eyes. Would she decide against her logic, against everything she knew was right, then she would never be the same again. This wound would never heal.

He would simply do what he had always done to comfort her: He would tell her that her he loved her.

»Do it, T'Pol. You have no other choice.«

--------

When she heard his voice, T'Pol realized it was impossible. It was absolutely _impossible_!

--------

He opened his eyes again and looked at her. Her eyes were unfocused now. Then she blinked forcefully — and suddenly snapped into action. She knelt down and picked up the communicator from where she had dropped it. She once more yelled her words into it at first, but slowly calmed herself as she went on.

»ENTERPRISE?«

»_Archer here. What is goin—_«

»Captain, Serat is dead. It is imperative that the mission team leaves the surface immediately. Commander Tucker is infectious, so he and I will need different means of transportation than Lieutenant Reed and Major Hayes. I advice you to contact the Andorians and inform them of the situation. The environment here has been contaminated, Captain, and should be subjected to orbital bombardment. If the Andorians lack the necessary means, ENTERPRISE could perform it.«

For a long moment, there was no reply. Obviously Archer had to recover first, before he could fathom all this.

»We will send Shuttlepod Two down to pick you up, Subcommander.«

»Acknowledged. T'Pol out.«

She switched the communicator off and just stood there.

Trip had no idea what to say. He was too perplexed to even feel relief.

»I don't understand, T'Pol?«

»I have no other choice, Charles. I have promised to care for you. I cannot break my promise. It is impossible!«

They simply stood there and looked at another. In silence they waited for the shuttle to arrive.

--------

Two days later. 

--------

T'Pol decided it would be necessary to find a moment of calm. She had to reflect on the past events. She entered the Mess Hall and found a free table near the window. She turned the chair slightly and sat down. She looked at the stars.

Three Andorians had been infected and had mutated into Loque'eque. They had been working in one of the other cabins near the site. The wind must have blown the virus into their direction. But by sheer luck they had not infected anyone else.

T'Pol refused the concept of luck as a matter of principle. It was ridiculous to assume such a thing existed. It was chance. But still …

Doctor Phlox had treated the infected Andorians successfully, and that had calmed everybody's nerves. Not so much, though, that the Andorians wouldn't have demanded a very thorough explanation. They had given them every bit of data, all the medical research, all the information they would ever want. Except for one thing: The identity of the terrorist.

For all the Andorians knew, it had been a Xindi. Captain Archer had not been enthusiastic about covering up for the Vulcan High-Command, so to speak. But he had done it. He had lied. Eventually the Andorians actually thanked the ENTERPRISE crew for their help and expressed hope that they could return the favor and help deal with the Xindi. But the promised favor came with a bitter taste and the ENTERPRISE crew had just wanted to leave and get back on the mission.

The following days had been difficult. Especially for her. She had made her choice. She had chosen the path she would walk. She would walk the path together with Charles. And in all the madness and all the chaos this thought shone like a guiding light to her.

»Excuse me, Subcommander. Do you mind if I join you?«

»Of course not, Lieutenant Hess. Please, sit down.«

»I understand Captain Serat was a close friend of yours, Subcommander? I wanted to say how sorry I was to hear what has happened to him.«

»I appreciate your empathy, Lieutenant.«

And T'Pol really did. She hardly knew this woman, yet the Human had approached her and had expressed sympathy for her. This had never happened before! The thought was strangely comforting. Something had changed.

»Subcommander, may I ask you a private question?«

»Of course, Lieutenant.«

»I was wondering about … your culture teaches you to suppress your emotions. Is that right?«

»Yes, Lieutenant.«

»I really hope I am not overstepping any boundaries by asking this …«

»Simply ask, Lieutenant. I will not feel offended, will I?«

For a split second, Jennifer Hess thought T'Pol had grinned at her.

»Right.« Now that the Subcommander had said it, it was rather obvious, actually. »What I mean is: doesn't suppressing your emotions conflict with a romantic relationship with Commander Tucker? Doesn't that necessarily involve feeling emotions?«

»It does.«

»Then how is it possible?«

»I allow myself to feel emotions for Commander Tucker. I simply chose to give up that part of my control.«

»But you still control your other feelings?«

»Yes. It has become more difficult, unfortunately. By allowing myself to feel any one of the emotions I experience, I become more … receptive to all of them.«

»You have suppressed your emotions all your life before you and Trip got together?«

»Yes.«

»Wow. I really mean, wow. That must have been a very difficult decision to make!«

»It was, Lieutenant. It still is. But I know it is the right choice. My emotions for Commander Tucker influence me for the better.«

Lieutenant Hess looked at the Vulcan women for a moment. It turned out, T'Pol was completely different than she had expected!

»Subcommander, talking to you now makes me realize that I owe you an apology.«

»What for?«

»Until a minute ago, I had never understood how many of my ideas about Vulcans are based on prejudice. For the longest time I had assumed Vulcans had no emotions at all! I am really ashamed of myself that I lived on the same ship with you for so long and never realized my mistake.«

»You thought Vulcans had no emotions?«

»Yes! Isn't that ridiculous? I am really sorry, Subcommander.«

»There is no need to apologize, Lieutenant.«

»Yes, there is. Many of us have treated you as if you _had_ no emotions. And I am sorry about that.«

»The prejudice was mutual, Lieutenant. I came aboard this ship and thought of Humans as undisciplined children. I assumed I was here to supervise your species. Only later did I realize that there is much to be learned from Humanity. So if you feel the need to apologize, I must apologize as well.«

Both women looked at each other for a silent moment. In two years, this was the first time they had ever talked — except for ship's business. Now they both suddenly wondered why that was.

Lieutenant Hess extended her hand towards T'Pol.

»I would like to start over, Subcommander. My name is Jennifer.«

T'Pol took the offered hand and shook it.

»I am T'Pol.«

TO BE CONTINUED


	8. Chosen Minds

**Chosen Minds**

**Summary:** This is the conclusion of the _Mind_ series.

--------

»But Charles, we have done that the last five nights. Why have you become so fixated?«

»I love the feeling of calm and peace afterwards, T'Pol. It is wonderful! But I cannot do it without you.«

»But wouldn't you rather like to play? We haven't played for so long!«

»I simply feel you shouldn't neglect this aspect of your species.«

»Doing it five consecutive nights hardly constitutes _negligence_, Charles.«

»We could do it first and play afterwards?«

»You never wish to play _afterwards_, Charles. You are always exceptionally quiet and solemn after we have meditated.«

»Okay. Then we will play first.«

»Three hours.«

»Three? But that leaves hardly time to meditate, T'Pol.«

»You should not neglect this aspect of your species, Charles.«

--------

»There is a Vulcan myth, which we could play. It is the story of the warrior princess T'Mir and her chosen one. It is a myth from ancient times.«

»That sounds great, T'Pol. How would it work?«

»I would be T'Mir, of course. She was a terrifyingly beautiful female—«

»She couldn't possibly be as beautiful as you, T'Pol.«

»Charles, she was more beautiful than you can imagine.«

»I cannot imagine anything more beautiful than you, T'Pol.«

»Right. Well, she would have looked exactly like me then.«

»She must have been beautiful!«

»She was! And since she was a very undisciplined person, she allowed herself to feel desire for a beautiful male she had seen while she was hunting.«

»What happened?«

»He belonged to another clan! And the matriarch had other plans for the male: She wanted to bond him to her own daughter.«

»But he did not love the matriarch's daughter?«

»Of course not, Charles. He desired T'Mir! She was beautiful.«

»So what did T'Mir do?«

»She tried to reason with the matriarch of the other clan. She offered her considerable amounts of valuables for the male. But the evil matriarch refused!«

Trip had a strange feeling about this story, but he pushed the thought aside.

»The bonding ceremony was scheduled for the next morning, Charles. So T'Mir had no other choice. She took her _lirpa_ and stormed into the evil clan's fortress. She defied everyone who stood in her way, Charles! She battled through them and rescued the male only seconds before he was about to be bonded.«

»What's his name?«

»He does not have a name in the myth.«

»I don't know, T'Pol. What exactly do I do in that story?«

»You would be held prisoner in the fortress, of course. But I would rescue you.«

»Right, but what do I _do_?«

»You will look beautiful, Charles.«

»I would rather play something else, T'Pol.«

»What do you propose?«

--------

»No, no. Keep standing over there. The marching-in of the bride is a special part of the ceremony.«

»I see.«

»I would be standing over here, before the altar. Probably with Jonathan.«

»But wouldn't the Captain marry us?«

»He could. But I also need a best man.«

»What for?«

»For the speech.«

»I see. Couldn't Captain Archer perform the ceremony and be your best man as well?«

»It's unusual … but the whole marriage is unusual, so I guess it's okay.«

»Good.«

»My family would be sitting on this side of the church. I don't know, there would be hundreds of them actually. Would that even fit?«

»Of my family only my mother and father would come, Charles.«

»Then we'll forget that part. People will be sitting all over the place.«

»What do I do?«

»You keep standing over there for the moment, because before you can walk in, everybody has to get up.«

»But they were sitting when you entered the church, Charles.«

»That's right. But I am not the bride, T'Pol.«

»So they will stand up, and then I walk in?«

»Yes. And everybody will be looking at you, T'Pol. My mother will cry when she sees you, so happy will she be that her son found such a beautiful bride.«

»Do you know what my parents will do?«

»No, what will they do?«

»My mother will say: _These Human ceremonies are exceptionally tedious, S'Ter._«

»Very funny, T'Pol.«

»And my father would answer: _Let us just hope that they know how to prepare food, T'Pon._«

»You are joking now, T'Pol, but when you walk into the church in that moment, you will be emotional. Trust me.«

»We will see, Charles. So I walk to the altar now?«

»Yes … but not like that, T'Pol. No, start over. You have to pause between every step. You have to walk slowly. People want to see you.«

»Why?«

»Because of the dress you'll be wearing.«

»What would I wear?«

»First of all, that white, lacy underwear you have.«

»I see.«

»And over it, you would wear something very form-fitting and sensual, T'Pol. A white cat-suit, probably. But it would be special. It would be low cut in the front, show most of your back …«

»Wouldn't that be inappropriate?«

»You are probably right. Well, in that case you could wear a white, long dress with a trail. But it should be form-fitting, T'Pol. Nobody would mind.«

»A trail?«

»Yes. And you'll also wear a white veil. So that nobody sees your face but me.«

»I see.«

»Yes … that's much better. Now we both turn to Jonathan so that he can address the crowd.«

»What would he say?«

»He would say: _I hate it that T'Pol marries Trip instead of me, but — let's be honest — the guy just looks too damn good._«

»I doubt he would say that, Charles. He is very attractive.«

»Would you like to be married or not?«

»Fine. That is what he would say.«

»Then there would probably be music and lot's of tedious things, but in the end, we'll both be standing here so that we can make our vows.«

»I am ready.«

Trip read the words out loud from a PADD with pathos.

»We are gathered here to unite this man and this woman in the bonds of holy matrimony. If anyone present can show just and legal cause why they may not be joined, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.«

»Would anyone say anything?«

»No, T'Pol.«

»Good. What comes next?«

»We don't have any rings, do we?«

»No.«

»Forget them. You know what we will do? We will press our palms together, T'Pol. Instead of exchanging rings.«

»Wearing a ring is illogical anyway, Charles.«

»Good. Now the vows. The woman begins, T'Pol.«

»Charles, will you have me as your lawful wedded wife, to live together in the estate of matrimony? Will you love me, honor me, comfort me, and keep me in sickness and in health; forsaking all others, be true to me as long as we both shall live?«

»I will.«

»Good.«

»Now you! T'Pol, will you have me as your lawful wedded husband, to live together in the estate of matrimony? Will you love me, honor me, comfort me, and keep me in sickness and in health; forsaking all others, be true to me as long as we both shall live?«

»What would happen if I said no?«

»Don't even think about it.«

»I will.«

»Good. Now we will join our hands and then I may kiss the bride.«

When their palms touched, their fingers interlocked with force.

--------

They had been together for three weeks by now, but still Trip could not get used to impact of the moment T'Pol touched him. As simple as the gesture was, every time she touched him his world changed. The first emotion was bliss. Pure, essential bliss. And it subsided into fear that she might let go, then came the realization that they _touched_, and then there was profound happiness.

T'Pol was instant happiness, and he had become addicted to her.

--------

T'Pol was amused by his thoughts. The emotion of happiness seemed such a small gift compared to what he made her feel. When Charles touched her, she was _alive_. She could only allow herself to feel _any_ emotion, because he shared them with her. When she was with him, she could give up her control because _he_ cared for her then.

She could use her imagination, she could live fantasies, she could feel joy and laughter and longing … She realized that she could hardly remember what it had been like before they were together. She had 66 years worth of memories, but the only happy memories were moments she had shared with him — because she could not be happy without him.

Whatever her life had been like before, T'Pol knew she did not want to go back to it. She could not.

--------

And she would never have to.

Trip had no idea what difficulties still lay ahead them. In a sad way, he was certain it would be difficult. But he knew that he would never allow anyone or anything to stand between them. He couldn't care less what the Vulcan High-Command, Starfleet, or the rest of the universe thought or wanted. They belonged together.

--------

T'Pol shivered because of the emotions she felt when he thought these thoughts.

--------

For a long moment he simply looked at her. Every time he looked into her face his gaze was invariably drawn into her dark eyes. He would try to see her cheekbones, her lips, even her ear-tips, but suddenly he was looking into her eyes, and then the world faded around him. He had never seen anyone look at him with as much intensity as she did. Never before had he shared as much intimacy with anyone as he shared with T'Pol.

He realized, he was incomplete without her.

--------

»I also feel incomplete without you, Charles. But there is a way how we both can feel complete forever.«

»There is?«

»Yes. We could perform the Vulcan bonding ritual, Charles. We could become bond-mates. It is a union of minds, the telepathic connection would become permanent. Our minds would touch for the remainder of our lives.«

»It would always be like this?«

»Yes. We would share every thought, every memory, and every sensation.«

»Why haven't we done that long ago, T'Pol?«

»Because, Charles, it is a life-long commitment. A commitment far greater than anything Humans have known. The bond is very strong; it would be impossible for us to separate.«

»What do you mean by _impossible_? Let's pretend we would not get along and you would decide to leave me — what would happen?«

»We would both die.«

»Oh.«

»During the bonding, our minds become one mind, Charles. Then one can no longer survive without the other.«

»What would happen if I died of old age?«

»I would die as well.«

»But your lifespan is much longer than mine, T'Pol. If we bonded, that would mean you'd throw away decades of your life.«

»If we bonded, there would be no more _your_ or _my_ life, Charles. We could only live together.«

»I see … Wow.«

It sure sounded like a huge commitment … but was it really? He could not live without her anyway. The idea of breaking up and going separate ways was outrageous. It was impossible. He had committed to her the moment he had placed the stencil on his palm and had reached out for her to apply the _le-matya gisam_. Their minds had touched for the first time that night. He knew that he could no longer exist without that touch, without her.

»I am certain, T'Pol.«

She knew he was. She felt the same way he did. She remembered the night when she had been sitting in her quarters and had worked on the stencils. She remembered how she had glowed with anticipation at how he would react. How she had been worried whether he would agree. And how she had daydreamed about the moment they would choose to bond. And there it was.

»I am also certain, Charles.«

--------

For a minute they stood and looked at another. They knew they had made their choice, but they savored the moment. Their hands clasped to each other with unnecessary strength, and they reveled in the intimacy of the touch, in the warmth of the attention of the other. In this moment, they were oblivious to the starship around them; they were beyond the passage of time, detached from the real world, in a place of their own.

The ancient rites just shot into their minds: _Our minds, one and together … Touching, yet not touching; apart, yet never apart._

T'Pol whispered the words in a dreamy voice: »Touching, yet not touching; apart, yet never apart …« Then she closed her eyes.

Trip looked at her for a moment longer before he heard the sound of his own voice as if from a great distance: »Touching, yet not touching; apart, yet never apart …« Then he closed his eyes.

They lost track of time and space completely. The air seemed to whirl around them with increasing speed, it formed a spiral with them in the center. Colors, objects, memories, images, and emotions whirled around them and were sucked into the eye of the hurricane, where they crashed into them and vanished. They intertwined, their minds mixed and merged — and suddenly everything collapsed and it was quiet.

At the same instant they opened their eyes, and when their gazes met, they both spoke the words in perfect unison.

»We are one.«

--------

T'Pol looked at her mate with wide eyes. She repeated the word in her mind several times, just because of the sparks of pleasure it set off when she thought them. _My mate._ She had bonded with Charles! And it had stirred something ancient inside of her. She felt strangely powerful. The knowledge that he had chosen her as his mate caused the blood to rush in her ears. She felt like she could do anything, anything at all. She was _alive_ like she had never been before. Out of the thousands of females he had met, he had chosen her. And now she was his.

She could not tear her focus away from her mate. She could literally not think about anything but him. It was impossible. His presence overwhelmed her discipline, he simply commanded her attention, she knew no other purpose to her existence but to focus on his invigorating presence.

Her gaze had wandered aimlessly, but now it returned to his face — and electricity jolted through her spine as she looked deep into his soul through his blue eyes. She saw herself in him. She saw his longing for her. She saw that she was a part of him now. She saw that he was _hers_ now!

A memory came to her in this moment: she recalled the story of the warrior princess T'Mir. She had daydreamed about the myth from ancient times when she was a child. She had dreamed that she was T'Mir. T'Pol closed her eyes while powerful images rippled through her.

She felt the blood race through her veins while she ran through the desert as fast as she could. Her body produced vast amounts of excess heat in the sun, but she did not care, because the chased her prey. A _le-matya_ was a dangerous predator, but this particular _le-matya_ ran away in panic from her. It knew instinctively that this Vulcan hunted to kill.

Her heart pounded in her chest while she dashed after the animal with the long spear held up high above her head. The _le-matya_ turned sharply left and right in an attempt to lose her, but it was hopeless. While racing after her prey, she reached back with the arm carrying the spear; then fell into two, three long jumps; stretched her arm backwards as far as she could; and contracted her chest muscles powerfully while smashing her shoulder forward and hurling the spear after the animal in an explosive movement. But at the last possible moment she caught the sight of someone else out of the corner of her eye. Someone had just appeared from behind a larger stone at her right side, several dozen meters afar. And it had distracted her.

She brought herself to a sudden halt as she watched the spear miss its target by almost a meter. She yelled out in anger and disappointment, then she turned and was ready to kill whoever it was that had disturbed her focus.

T'Pol opened her eyes and looked at Charles.

--------

Trip had never felt like this before. Powerful sensations flooded into his mind and washed away his consciousness. He could do nothing but shake with longing for his mate; he could simply not get enough of her emotions, of her thoughts, of her sensations. The turmoil she felt set his own emotions loose, and he lost himself completely in the overwhelming intimacy of their bond.

Abruptly, he was ripped out of his dreams and back into the real world. He opened his eyes the same moment she did. T'Pol stood only centimeters away, and her face glistened with heat and perspiration. Her dark eyes were wide, receptive — and they were locked on him. Each and every of her molecules had turned into his direction, she stood before him and drew him to her like a giant magnet. And at the same time she radiated energy, she almost stood in flames with powerful emotions. He was terrified by her beauty!

--------

She could not believe how beautiful he was! His alien body was closer to his archaic past; he was lean, muscular, and tall. She could feel his raw strength, the powerful determination of a will fueled by primal desires. He was a predator. He took the things he desired.

The thought sent shivers down her spine and she gasped at the sudden sensation.

She stood there before him and realized she was helpless. She could not resist. She desired him more than anything.

--------

It was her smell. Trip had never really smelled T'Pol, but suddenly he did. He had only one word for it: alien. A decidedly feminine scent emanated from her, and when he noticed it, and inhaled it, he saw fireworks for a moment. Her emotions flooded through his mind all the while a part of his brain reacted violently to her pheromones. And some baser instinct in him took over. He just looked at the woman he had known for so long now, the woman he had loved for so long now — but now she was _his_.

And he pulled her to him and kissed her demandingly.

--------

The desire raged in them while they kissed. It was unsettling. She threw her emotions at her mate, helpless to deal with them of her own, but he flooded her with his own emotions in return, and it was desire too! And it resonated in both of them and became powerful, hot, burning, and finally scorching desire which threatened to consume them altogether.

They broke the kiss and gasped and looked at each other with painful longing, but the heat overwhelmed them. Their palms began to throb with pain, the poison that had left them with their markings seemed to have reappeared with a vengeance. It was unbearable!

Their hands shook because of their fight to hold on, but the heat inside of them grew and increased even further, until they felt like they were touching fire! Then they let go.

--------

»WHERE IS HE?«

--------

»WHERE IS SHE?«

--------

T'Pol's existence had ended the instant they had separated. The powerful loss of his touch had wiped out any sensations of her own, every fiber of her mind was focused on her mate. She hungered for his emotions, for his thoughts, for his presence — she could not tear her focus away from him, because he was the air she need to live. What little she could feel of him was all she had to keep her alive.

And he felt horrible! His body burned with desire, she could feel the itching of his skin as if it were her own. It _was_ her own in this moment, and she let out a low groan as she stretched her body in a pointless attempt to alleviate the constricting tension he felt around his chest.

She had no more rational thought, by instinct she knew that she had to satisfy his desire, or it would kill her even before it killed him.

She locked her eyes onto his face.

--------

The shock of the separation had made Trip's mind numb. It took several moments before he even realized where he was, but when he did, everything was WRONG. The feeling of loss was impossible to bear, so he gave up his own existence completely and clutched to what little he could feel of T'Pol like an anchor. He felt only what she felt now, and she felt horrible!

He had felt _burning desire_ before, but that had been nothing compared to what T'Pol felt. Something in her had awakened from a 66 year-long sleep, and it was beyond her control. She longed for him so powerfully that the intensity had literally wiped him out completely, he had no more conscious thought. All he knew was that he had to satisfy her desire, or it would kill him even before it killed her.

He looked at her.

--------

When their eyes met, time stood still. In this moment, the 20 centimeters between them were a monstrous distance. It was WRONG. They were separated. They felt nothing but each other's longing to unite, they understood with menace what it meant to be physically unable to survive separation.

In this moment, they were completely naked to each other. They depended on each other to live.

--------

Slowly, ever so slowly leaned Trip towards her face. He could feel her lips separate, he felt her tongue lick over them when she opened her mouth. He tasted the moist, musky taste in her mouth, he felt her tongue reach for him, and when her tongue found his, all the longing was replaced by bliss for a split second. He could feel the sparks of soothing pleasure the tip of his tongue set off when it stroked hers, and it was wonderful. He gasped into her mouth, then inhaled her breath deeply, desperate not to miss any bit of her taste and smell.

But the longing returned even more fiercely than before, and soon their touch became unbearable again, until they broke the kiss and jerked away from each other.

--------

T'Pol stood in flames with his desire, so she simply tore his tunic open, she pressed her hands against his chest and found relief for a split second in the way her hands felt soothing on his skin, she found his bliss while they traveled over his chest muscles, and moved down to explore his stomach. He felt sparks of pleasure while her fingers stroked his abdomen, slowly finding their way downwards to his trousers.

But his desire returned even more fiercely than before, it arose from his groin with anger and overwhelmed any other sensation. Her touch burned him and her at once, and finally she jerked her hands away from the scorching pain.

--------

They stood before each other and panted, but it was impossible. Immediately they fell into each other arms again. Trip lifted T'Pol off her feet, took one step, and just threw himself on the bed together with her. He turned with her still in his arms so that he lay on top of her, and kissed her once more. Then he began to stroke her breasts through the sheer material of her top, and her emotions yelled _MORE_ at him. So he tore her top away and kissed her breasts. For an instant he found bliss when his tongue traveled around and over her right nipple, a shiver of pleasure ran through her body, and it was so wonderful that he groaned in unison with her.

--------

While lying under him, T'Pol wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to the side, rolling on top of him in the same movement. She pushed herself up and sat back on her knees, coming to sit over his legs. Her long fingers opened his belt in a swift motion, as if she had practiced it a thousand times. Within seconds she had opened his trousers and rose to pull them off his legs, then threw them into the room carelessly.

She pulled down her own panties, stepped out of them with one leg, and kicked them somewhere into the room without looking.

Then she knelt down before him and reached for him with her left hand, palm towards him. She waited until he had risen to his knees as well, but when he reached for her hand with his, she leaned herself over backwards and lowered her shoulders to the floor, arching her back before him, all the while keeping her hand slightly out of his reach.

His palm touched hers the same moment he entered her, and the sensation shook her to the core. She clasped his hand with hers despite the scorching heat of his touch, she knew she would not let go again. They were finally one!

--------

T'Pol's presence was wonderful and torturous at the same time. She was warm and feminine, she engulfed him and nurtured him with bliss, she emanated life and pleasure through him, but no matter how wonderful she was, there was never enough of her! Desperately he threw herself into her, his mind and his body thrust into her simultaneously, trying to find to her in the lust and desire that clouded their minds.

Her touch grew hotter and hotter while he struggled with her, the closer he came to her core, the more the heat threatened to turn him to ashes. The desire, the burning reached a point he hadn't thought possible. Through a fog of fire he heard her voice yell his name, and one last time he raced for her, threw himself into her, and finally found her in the midst of the fire. Disregarding the burning he reached for her in his mind, through all the scorching heat they reached for another, and when their palms touched in their minds as well, their minds and bodies interlocked and everything exploded into light around them.

Unfathomable bliss flooded through their bodies and engulfed their minds. While holding on to each other, they experienced joy, laughter, pain, tears, and longing all at once, they lived a life-time of happiness in each other arms while their bodies shook in their embrace.

Utterly exhausted, they collapsed onto another and just lay there in each other's arms.

--------

While he slept in her embrace, T'Pol's mind wandered through the fantasy she had had as a little girl. The myth of T'Mir. She imagined herself lying in the sand of ancient Vulcan, a princess of a clan of warriors. She felt the warmth of the sun on her skin, the rough caress of the sand on her back. She bathed in the raw and essential affection that overwhelmed her when she touched his sleeping face. She was one with the world in profound way, she felt wonderful simply because she was with him.

For an instant she wondered what she would do would someone try to take him away from her. That was what had fascinated her as a child. What must it feel like to be willing to battle for a male? Now she knew.

She had found what T'Mir had found. In a way, she had become like T'Mir. Though she didn't know why, this meant something to her.

Her eyes returned to his face when he stirred in her arms. She knew he was awake now, and she welcomed him with a slow, affectionate kiss.

--------

Trip was one with the world. He hadn't even opened his eyes before she had been there, and his mind jubilated with joy at the realization. For the longest time he kept his eyes shut and simply kissed her. There was no more pleasurable way to wake up than to her presence. He could feel her inside of him. She was everywhere in his mind, she showered him with attention, her spirit was eternally interwoven with his own. And he was one with the world because of it.

Finally he opened his eyes to find himself lying in the Vulcan desert with T'Pol. Nothing but a few rocks were in the vicinity. They were alone. Despite the intense heat from the sun, despite the inhabitable surroundings, this was the most peaceful place he had been at for long, simply because he was here with her.

He didn't need to ask her where they were. It was his fantasy as well as it was hers. They were one.

»You have disturbed my aim.«

»No, fair lady. I didn't do anything, I just looked who was running through the desert.«

»And you disturbed my aim in the process. I have missed my prey because of your interference.«

»Is that right?«

»Yes.«

»Then I apologize.«

»That will not be enough. As it is custom, I will take you as my possession instead of the prey that you cost me.«

»I have never heard of that custom.«

»It is a rare custom.«

»I see. So I am your possession now?

»You are mine.«

»That is gonna be a problem. I am supposed to marry the daughter of my clan's matriarch tomorr—«

»No!«

She sat up on her knees before him and looked at him with intensity.

»She cannot have you.«

»The matriarch is very stubborn.«

She took his right hand with her left, and suddenly they were back in her quarters on the ENTERPRISE. They lay in her bed together, holding each other. Her face was only inches away from his and her eyes looked straight into his, without hesitation, without concealing her true feelings in this moment.

With conviction she repeated her words: »She cannot have you. You belong to me!«

A shiver went through him when he felt her determination. He knew it was the truth. She would fight all of Vulcan with a _lirpa_ for him. And he knew he would do the same for her. Because she was his!

--------

»I want to show you something, T'Pol. A memory of mine.«

»Just think of it. We will share it.«

She felt the surroundings change around her, but his brain worked differently than hers. He could not recall his memories in the precise detail she could, but he could remember feelings along with the moment, he could share his emotions with her in his memories.

She was standing in a boat with him, they were in the midst of a large lake. For an instant she felt panic because of the water around her and sat down. Suddenly the memory felt so real that she even noticed how the boat shook because of her hectic movement, and despite of her best efforts it frightened her.

»Why are you afraid?«

»I cannot swim, Charles. My body is denser than yours, I would sink in the water.«

To her surprise he laughed in response.

»In my fantasy, T'Pol, you can do whatever you like.«

And just to prove his point, he jumped into the water and disappeared under the surface for a long moment.

T'Pol looked after him dumbfounded. He was right! She watched his head reappear a few meters afar from the boat.

»What are you waiting for?«

So she did what she had done more frequently than not when she was around him lately: She followed an impulse and just jumped into the water. She defied everything she knew what had to happen and swam.

»This is incredible, Charles!«

T'Pol was mesmerized by the sensation of floating in the water. She knew it was impossible for her to do, but here she was experiencing it as if it were real! She followed another impulse and laughed out with wonder, before she broke into a frantic attempt to do the crawl. She was certain she knew how to do it, but somehow it was more difficult than he remembered it. She searched his mind for more memories of the movement, she recalled the times when he had been swimming, and slowly but constantly she made progress, until she was _indeed_ swimming gracefully through the water with a speed only possible in fantasies.

It was amazing!

--------

»You wanted to show me the lake?«

They had returned to the boat after a while and had wrapped themselves in large towels together. T'Pol rested with her back against his chest and stretched her neck over backwards before she asked him, so that she could see his face. He kissed her on the brow before he answered.

»No, I wanted to show you something in the opposite direction actually. When I was six years old, a few days before I had to go to school for the first time, I sneaked out of the house late in the evening and went here by bike.«

»This place is close to where you grew up?«

»Yes, perhaps 10 kilometers from where my parents used to live back then. It was summer, a wonderful night, and I rowed out here on the lake alone.«

»What did you do?«

»School was about to begin, and I was very nervous about it. Learning, working, getting grades, all this sounded very intimidating to me back then. So I rowed out on the lake and pretended I was somewhere else. I imagined I wouldn't have to go to school, that I could do whatever _I_ wanted.«

»What did you want to do?«

»It's pretty obvious, just look …«

Carefully he moved himself a bit in the boat and sank backwards along with her in his arms until they both lay flat on their backs. Until they looked at the stars.

The emotions in his memory became more intense, T'Pol could feel what he had felt when he had been here years ago. She could share his dream with him, she could truly be here with him in this moment. She looked at the stars and longed to see strange new worlds, to learn about alien forms of life. Just like he had as a child.

He had whispered the words to himself next to her, but she could hear him no matter how softly he spoke.

»And now the dream has become true …«

With sudden joy she realized that _she_ was the alien life he had dreamed about, that they were, in fact, in the midst of the stars, that they were _living_ their dreams. Despite all the madness around them, they had found each other. They were together now. They were one. And she could do nothing but turn around and kiss him again.

Her kiss consumed him so entirely that the imagined surroundings just collapsed around them as his focus went out of the window. Suddenly they were on the ENTERPRISE again, they were two naked bodies lying on top of each other in their wedding bed, and they were everything but sated.

The desire in them arose with force once more, but it had changed. It was no longer painful, or threatening, it was the loving, playful passion that was wonderful because it knew it would be fulfilled. This time they truly loved each other in slow deliberate movements. They savored the feeling of the other one's skin on their own and the powerful intimacy of soft kisses. Their intoxicating nakedness drove them even further into each other's embrace, until there was no more distinction between them and they climaxed in each other's arms.

For the better part of the night they played with each other, loved each other, and dreamed together, oblivious to the starship around them. They were in world of their own. They were one.

They had no idea how much time had passed when they shared one last climax before they simply fell asleep on top of each other, completely sated, utterly content with the world. They both smiled in their sleep. Had someone seen them like this, it would have looked as if they _knew_ that a child had been conceived in this night.

THE END

* * *

**Postscriptum**

Over the course of two months this story has grown way beyond anything I had imagined when I started writing it, and it feels weird to have it end, well, so »suddenly«. But I realize that 55,000 words are enough. Writing this continued story has really taught me new respect for the people who do this constantly in fan-fiction, and come up with twenty-part epics. I envy your talent and discipline, guys!

I would like to thank all the wonderful people who provided feedback and encouragement. I would have never written this story weren't it for my fellow 'shippers who kept _reading_ what I write. Again, thank you everybody!

Especially to Clicks.


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